Always Running
by Jazz2305
Summary: Betrayal and dark secrets forced Bella to flee for protection. The Cullen Group saved her for now, but even they fight a losing battle. Jasper and Edward struggle to protect the original danger magnet, but will Edward be more than just her bodyguard? AH
1. Chapter 1

**A/N I known nothing but a battered laptop and an overactive imagination, Stephenie Meyer rules us all.**

**CHAPTER ONE**

Jasper POV

The music filled the symphony hall in a spill of golden sunlight, the complex melodies created by the orchestra enchanting and captivating the audience. I glanced down at my wife, amused when I noted her eyes were closed and her form calm as she listened to the music. I smiled to myself. This was one of the few times that Alice was ever still.

But her peaceful expression shattered as her eyes flew open when she felt the dull buzzing coming from my phone in the pocket of my tux. She shot me a look of disapproval, but restrained herself from comment because she knew that I never turned _that_ phone off. She understood how important it was that it was always on.

I ghosted my fingertips along her cheek and apologised silently with my eyes, already on my feet and slipping through the side door from the box. The music was muffled here, the hallway deserted and dimly lit while the performance was in progress.

My phone was to my ear immediately; I didn't even bother to check the caller ID. Programming recognisable names into this phone would be tantamount to suicide and would destroy the careful system of anonymity our company struggled to maintain. Barely eight seconds had elapsed since it began ringing.

I didn't speak, but waited for the person calling me to do so. If it was someone I'd given the number to, they knew the score and would speak first. If not, then I knew we had a security breach.

The voice was barely a whisper. She sounded scared. "Jasper?"

Even though we had over dozens of clients on the books at any one time, I knew the voice instantly. "Bella?"

I could hear her sigh in relief. "Jasper, I don't know if I'm freaking out over nothing, but I feel like something's wrong. My boss said a guy had been been by today asking questions about me, about my shifts and if I lived in the area -"

"Did he tell him anything?"

"No! I told them the usual cover that my ex is stalking me, so no one at work would talk about me to strange guys. But Beth said they hung around for a couple of hours after, and she thought she recognised the car they got into, that it might have been hanging around this week."

_Shit_. "Did they see you?"

"I don't think so, they'd gone by the time I got in for my evening shift. But, Jasper...I know it sounds paranoid but I swear I could _feel_ someone watching me when I was walking to work."

"You're still at work now?"

"Yes."

I hesitated, deliberating. She sounded scared; I could almost see her now, whispering from a corner of the tiny staff room in the bar where we'd got her a job. A lot of clients got spooked easily - unsurprising really, considering that few people with a rosy past needed our organisation's protection. Bella could simply be paranoid, jumping at shadows. She'd be the last to realise it but she was a beauty - some guy could just be hitting on her.

But if she was right...if she was right and I told her to go back to work, she was dead.

And Bella attracted trouble like no other client - she'd been moved more than anyone I'd ever helped protect. She was tough, and she was damn smart - she had good instincts and she didn't rile easily. She wouldn't call this number unless she had reason to worry.

_Damn it_.

"Bella, I need you to get the hell out of there. Right now."

"But, I - "

"Now, Bella! Nothing but the magic three - now get your ass moving!" The magic three: wallet, phone and taser. I trained her so she wouldn't even go to the restroom without them. Always ready to run.

"To the usual rendezvous?"

"No, the secondary one I told you about. I'll send someone to meet you, just keep your head down until then." I paused, listening to her quickened breathing and I hated scaring her like this but I needed her to move.

"Fucking run, Bella - go now!"

I hung up the phone before she could reply, swearing softly under my breath. I pulled out the other cell I used, shifting with impatience over the moments it took to switch on.

"Emmett? We've got a problem - Bella, again. Who do we have near Pheonix?"

"Damn, that chick is a fucking danger-magnet. What is this, the seventh time now?"

"Emmett!"

"Chill, Whitlock, you're in luck. Edward's still in Arizona with the whole Carrandine mess. You want me to call?"

"Yeah. Get him to the Crown Hotel in Pheonix, the usual room. Have him call me when he arrives." I paused. "Tell him to hurry."

"Will do."

I hung up, still tense. Logically, this was probably nothing - I was being over-cautious. Not a bad thing - it's why we succeeded where the witness protection program so often failed.

But I had a bad fucking feeling about this. Bella was different, not only because she had gathered a startling collection of enemies in such a brief time, nor because of the extraordinary risk from the precious knowledge locked in that head of hers.

She was different because she was a genuinely good person, a selfless person, something I so rarely come across in our line of work.

We couldn't lose her.

I slid down the wall into a crouch, holding one phone in each hand. I could still hear the faint music echoing through the walls. I knew Alice would be pissed, but there was no way I moving until I knew Bella was safe.

~*~

BPOV

The phone went dead in my hand. I stood, frozen, Jasper's last words echoing in my head. _'Fucking run, Bella - go now!_'

Shit shit SHIT! I really wanted to peek out behind the bar, look around to see if I could tell if anyone was hunting me...but the rational part of my brain stomped out that instinct. I had everything to lose and nothing to gain - I had no idea what they looked like. They knew _exactly_ what I looked like.

I clutched my phone, then automatically did the check that Jasper had ingrained in me nearly a year ago: taser in right pocket, wallet in left pocket. The magic three.

And then I ran, slipping out the back door like a thief in the night.

It wasn't the first time.

I remember how at first I'd felt so guilty about slipping away silently, not saying a word to anyone. Since the Cullen Group agreed to protect me I deliberately avoided cultivating any sort of relationship, but some sort of connection was inevitable. My boss, the other barmaids - they'd notice my absence. Now I knew Jasper would take care of it with a phone call in a couple of days, but I still couldn't help the twinge of guilt as I sneaked out the back door and tiptoed down the alley. What would they think of me?

Adrenaline pounded through my system, my heart rate through the roof and my eyes darted into ever shadow as I crept through the alley. I was more freaked out than I'd hinted to Jasper - there had been at least four occasions in the last week when I felt I was being watched, but having no proof I'd pushed it aside. Jasper had emphasised that number was only for emergencies.

I followed the route automatically. Whenever Jasper moved me to a new place the first thing he would do would be to walk me through my escape plan, outlining at least three alternate routes in anyone was after me.

I was fairly sure no one was following me. It was one of the reasons Jasper picked this bar to get me a job at - the back alley was an escapee's wet dream, heavily sheltered and very discrete; impossible to find unless you left the bar by the employee's exit at the back. It led out onto a very public highway where buses stopped every five minutes.

I waited in the shadows until the hulking bus arrived, waiting until the last possible minute before sprinting onboard and shoving a handful of change at the driver.

My eyes scanned the street as I sat down and the bus took off. I felt my heart freeze when I spotted the blue BMW Beth had described. The same BMW I'd seen at least three times this past week.

Shit shit SHIT!!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Stephenie Meyer owns all. I just own an overactive imagination and a beat-up laptop.**

**CHAPTER TWO**

**EPOV**

The shrill ring of the phone tore me from my sleep. Goddamn it, it was the first rest I'd had in five days. I ignored it - whatever it was, they could deal with it.

Finally, the ringing ended and I settled back into my blankets. Back into my oblivion.

Then the phone rang again.

"Fuck!" I exclaimed, furious and disturbed. What the hell did they want?

I answered the phone with a growl. "Jasper, I'm exhausted but I swear if you call me again I'll hire Rose to cut your balls off and feed them to those koi carp you're so goddamn fond of."

"Christ, Eddie, no need for such a welcome. If you wanted my balls all you needed to do was ask."

I groaned. "Emmett, seriously, what do you want? I need sleep."

He sounded apologetic, a first for the Jolly Green Giant. "Sorry, man, but this is kind of an emergency. One of Jasper's marks is in trouble and you're the only one in the vicinity."

"So send him to the Plaza. I'll pick him up in the morning."

"No can do, bro. This chick is so deep in shit I have no idea she's even survived this long." There was a pause, Emmett's heavy breathing over the line. "She's important to Jazz, but she's also important to Carlisle."

The haze of sleep receded. "What do you mean, 'important to Carlisle'?"

Emmett didn't speak. I knew he was still there was the gusty breathing invading my phone line. I waited him out.

"It's the Volturi chick."

_Shit_. "Where is she?"

"She'll be at the Crown Plaza soon. But, Ed..."

"What?"

"She's a little skittish and way beyond over-cautious. You might want to introduce yourself or she'll taser your ass."

Yeah, I'm sure Aro's princess is a real handful. Manicures must be such a goddamn strain. Stuck-up wench. "Whatever, Em. Where do I drop her off?"

"Not known yet. Just secure her, then check in with Jazz." Another pause, then Emmett said, "He asked you to hurry."

Of course he did. She held the key to the cacophony of corruption that was the Volturi. I'd keep the little bitch safe until she could testify.

"Text me the details. Tell Jasper I'm on it."

**A/N Please review. Edward will welcome you with cookies.**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Stephenie Meyer owns all. I just own a sick fascination with making Edward run and get all sweaty ;)**

**CHAPTER THREE**

**BPOV**

My heart was pounding louder than the rumble of the bus as I slid down in my seat, nudging myself away from the wide windows that gave such a clear view of me to the outside world. _What the hell was Jasper thinking, putting a stupid bus on the escape route?_

But then I shuddered, remembering the reason why the Cullen Group stopped getting me a car each time they moved me to a new location. The sound from the bomb blast deafened me for two days and the scar in my arm from the flying metal was never going anywhere.

Okay. So no more cars.

My heart rate shot through the roof as I realised the woman across from me was eyeing me suspiciously. Was she one of Aro's? A cold sweat broke out on my body, my palms suddenly clammy and mouth dry. My hand inched down until I could feel the heavy weight of the Taser in my pocket.

Then I realised I'd sunk so far down that my knees were almost on the floor and my ass was hanging off the edge of the bus seat. Added to to a complexion the colour of a fresh zombie, she was probably just looking at me like the crazy person I was.

_Way to blend in, Bella_.

Giving her a slightly sickly smile, which may have done more harm than good, I rose back up in my seat to a more socially acceptable level and angled my body away from the window. I nervously tucked stray brown curls into the baseball cap I was wearing as my genius disguise.

Yep. Definitely more harm than good. She was now clearly examining the inside crease of my elbows for track marks.

As discretely as I could, I scanned the road behind us for the blue BMW. Twilight had just begun to fall when I'd left the bar, and now the sky was darkening more as each second ticked by. Street lamps on the highway were flickering to life but my visibility was still poor.

Jasper picked this bus route because it had fewer stops per journey than any other in the city, as well as fewer passengers boarding during my scheduled evening shifts. I have no idea how he figures stuff like that out. I suddenly had an image of him pouring over maps and bus schedules in full spy gear, surreptitiously counting passengers and calculating the mean averages. I fought unsuccessfully to suppress the semi-hysterical giggle bubbling up in my throat.

The woman was looking more alarmed than ever now. Moving slowly, as if I were about to snap and inject her with a diseased needle at any moment, she relocated to the front of the bus. I could occasionally see her peeking over the top of her new seat at me with narrowed eyes.

Okay. I seriously needed to get a grip.

I closed my eyes and deliberately slowed my breathing, inhaling through my nose and releasing it slowly as I imitated the yoga class Renee had dragged me to so long ago. Whether it was the breathing exercise or the memory of home, I calmed gradually and reopened my eyes.

I went back to scanning outside my window. I couldn't see the car, but it was too dark now to make colours and models out clearly. Especially for me - despite the almost-photographic memory that got me into this mess, I have what Charlie always called 'car-related dyslexia'. If I couldn't see the hood ornament, or the make written on the back of the vehicle, I couldn't tell an Aston Martin from a Skoda.

As familiar downtown landmarks zipped past the windows, I knew we were only a few minutes away from the Crowne Plaza. Nervously, I double-checked my wallet for the card Jasper had given me that would get me up to the pre-arranged room with the minimum of fuss.

Then it happened.

The abrupt violence of the crash threw me forward, smashing my face into the high-backed seat in front of me.

Dazed and confused, I sunk down to the floor with a groan, fighting the blackness threatening to overwhelm my vision. Stars hovered at the edge of my vision and pain throbbed through my head. Wetness trickled down my forehead, leaving my fingers stained red when I touched it. The rusty scent of my blood made my head spin and stomach rise. I desperately fought for control.

"Miss? Hello, miss, can you hear me?"

Blearily, I blinked up at the man speaking. His voice to my ears sounded too slow, almost disjointed from the movements of his lips. He looked at least sixty and was dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and khakis, his expression one of concern. While his age and dress quelled the panic bubbling within me, it was not enough to remove it. I'd learned from hard experience that appearances could not be trusted.

He reached for my arm, still asking if I was okay. I attempted to twist from his grasp, but the dizziness shook me again. Helplessly I felt him tug on my arms, sitting me back into the seat and gently guiding my head forward to rest between my knees.

"It's okay miss, the bus just had a minor crash with another car. Looks like you hit your head pretty hard. Can you tell me your name?"

_Another car?_ My stomach tightened as the reality of current predicament hit me and my blood turned to ice in my veins. I ignored his question and croaked, "Can you help me off the bus?"

I could hear the frown in his voice. "I don't think that's a good idea. Just wait here, the paramedics have already arrived and they'll be able to help you."

_What? How the hell could the EMTs already be here? Have I been unconscious?_

I forced myself to sit up, beating the dizziness and nausea back. "How long ago did we crash? Did I pass out?"

"No," he answered, suddenly sounding puzzled. "It was less than two minutes ago. I guess we were lucky and there was an ambulance in the area."

_Shit Shit SHIT!_

I stood, stumbling slightly but pushing his helping hand back a little over-aggresively, too scared to be concerned with politeness or gratitude. I was deaf to his voice calling after me, the other groans and complaints of passengers on each side. My vision narrowed, all I could see was the centre aisle as I stumbled my way to the doors at the front of the bus and clung to the handle as I climbed down.

Some of the passengers milled around on the street, surrounding by concerned citizens and gawkers alike. I hunched behind them, pulling the bill of my baseball cap down further as I tried to make myself as inconspicuous as possible. An ambulance was parked next the damaged front fender of the bus, but the EMTs weren't helping anyone. They were scanning the crowd with narrowed eyes.

Then I saw it. Saw what the bus had crashed into and nearly collapsed again.

A blue BMW, the back slightly crumpled. Two dark-haired olive-skinned men standing next to it, offering cold distant apologies to the bus driver while their eyes dissected the crowd just as the paramedics' did.

I stumbled back from the scene, heart pounding in my ears. I was so dead.

Then their eyes met mine like a steel sledgehammer as I was backing away. They shouted something to the fake EMTs.

I whirled around, the ground swaying beneath me for a moment. I wiped blood out of my eyes, and I ran.

~ * ~

**EPOV**

She was taking too long.

I sat in the lobby of the Crowne Plaza, jaw clenched as I resisted to urge to pace restlessly. My eyes were locked on the entrance, waiting for the girl to show up. For anyone else I would have been waiting in the room upstairs, but something about this girl worried me and I wanted to get her the hell out of Arizona as soon as possible.

I checked my watch again.

The businessman opposite me lowered his newspaper to stare at me pointedly. That was when I realised I'd been tapping out a staccato rhythm on the tiles with my foot, my leg jerking like a cocaine addict in withdrawal. I returned his look with a dark, forbidding glower; he blanched and retreated back behind his paper.

_That's right, asshole_.

I checked the time again. Definitely taking too long.

I pulled my cellphone out and stalked towards the entranceway, ducking out into the dusty night air for a modicum of privacy as I dialed Jasper's number.

He answered straight away. I could hear the faint sounds of symphony in the background and I recalled where he'd taken my sister for their anniversary. It sounded like he was still out in the hallway; Alice was going to be pissed.

"What time did you talk to Bella?"

A rustle of cloth, then, "Eight twenty-two. She's not there yet?" He sounded worried.

"No. Would she have left immediately?" I asked, wondering if she had wasted time doing her make-up or some shit.

"Yes." Jasper's response for adamant and without hesitation. "The longest it should take her to get there is fourteen minutes, maybe sixteen."

"It's been over twenty three. Call her."

Jasper put me on hold while he dialed her. I scowled, annoyed with this unknown girl who was stupid enough to get involved with the Volturi then interrupt my first decent sleep in nearly a hundred hours. Goddamn her.

A click alerted me Jasper was back on the line. "She's not answering." A pause. "She _always_ answers. Something's definitely wrong, Edward."

"I'll find her," I growled into the phone, not even waiting for his reply as I snapped it shut and ended the call.

I started running down the road, adrenaline shaking the cobwebs of exhaustion from my mind as I backtracked the route that Isabella should have taken to get her spoilt little ass here. No doubt I'd find her in a boutique along the way.

~ * ~

**BPOV**

My lungs burned and the muscles in my legs screamed with protest. I forced myself on, miraculously not even stumbling once despite the incessant dizziness assaulting me.

I sprinted faster than I ever dreamed I could, fear and desperation giving me wings. I periodically wiped my forehead with my arm, the blood and sweat dripping down my bare wrist and staining my clothes.

I barely had to shove anyone out of my way. I must have looked half-crazed as I fled through Phoenix's nighttime stragglers and people stood aside for me. The sound of my footsteps pounding the pavement were almost eclipsed by those of my pursuers.

I wanted to desperately to look back, to see where they were, but Jasper's voice echoed in my head. He'd always been unyielding on this point: if you're running from someone, _never_ look back. It wastes time, will probably upset your balance, and there's nothing you can do anyway except try and run faster.

There was no sight that could have possibly sped me up, there was no physical way I could be quicker. I would have left Usain Bolt in the dust right now.

I turned a corner and could see the Crowne Plaza hotel in the distance. I almost sobbed in relief, my muscles shaking and nearly sending me tumbling into the wall. I pushed myself on, star-spotted tunnel vision focused only on the safety before me.

An arm like an iron bar grabbed me by the waist, knocking the air out of me with a startled _whoosh_. I choked, struggling to draw breathe back into my lungs to scream.

My abductor's other hand clapped over my mouth, large enough to cover the entire bottom half of my face. He dragged me into the alleyway as I struggled pointlessly against his inexorable hold on me. Eventually he picked me clean off the floor to carry me into the darkness easier.

I kicked back with my legs, trailing to disrupt his swift pace, but he paid me no heed as if the blows I landed weren't even happening. Blood loss, pain and fear began to override my adrenaline-fuelled energy, my struggles getting weaker as tears joined the wetness staining my face.

He spun me around, keeping his hand over my mouth as he pressed me into the brick wall of the alleyway. He released my waist, keeping me pinned by the solid muscled length of his body.

He was much taller than me, so my face was pressed into a chest of solid marble. I could feel him reaching into his pocket for something, _a weapon?_, and that memory sparked me back to life.

Wriggling my hand down I gripped the cold weight of the Taser in my pocket. Without hesitation I stuck the end into his lower belly and pressed the button, the loud click of the electrical charge sparking into him.

He yelped and stumbled back but did not fall, glaring back at me with terrifying intensity in glittering green eyes. He growled at me, knocking the Taser from my grasp and skittering down the alleyway before tearing the baseball cap from my hair, sending brown curls tumbling over my shoulders.

He slammed me back and slapped both his hands flat against the wall at either side of my head. I swear I heard him growl.

Nearly hyper-ventilating, I stared up at him, trapped by his intensity as much as by his body. His expression was dark and dangerous, bronze hair in tousled disarray framing a crystal-cut jaw and perfect features. Fury painted his eyes an even deeper shade of green.

"You really should not have done that, Isabella."

_Oh crap_.

**A/N Reviewers get slammed into alleyways by Edward ;)**

**Leave me some love! REVIEW!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Stephenie Meyer owns all. I just own a preoccupation with dramatic chase and hide scenes.**

**Also - story pimpage. Please read ****Into the Shadows of Darkness**** by ****Loverbug23**** (on my favourites). It's seriously good and massively under-appreciated - cannot understand why she doesn't have a zillion reviews, so please go and check it out and review. Features kickass cop-Bella and seriously hot Edward...you'll love it!**

**CHAPTER FOUR**

_**Previously (BPOV)**_

_He slammed me back against the alley wall and slapped both his hands flat against the wall at either side of my head. I swear I heard him growl._

_Nearly hyper-ventilating, I stared up at him, trapped by his intensity as much as by his body. His expression was dark and dangerous, bronze hair in tousled disarray framing a crystal-cut jaw and perfect features. Fury painted his eyes an even deeper shade of green._

_"You really should not have done that, Isabella."_

_Oh crap._

**~ * ~**

**BPOV**

This was it. I was actually going to die.

All the running, all the hiding. The eight lonely months spent with no contact with friends or family, fleeing Italy, my fiancé's betrayal...all meaningless because I about to murdered by this green-eyed demon in a back alley in Phoenix.

I panicked, struggling against him with all the effectiveness of a fly fighting through concrete. He growled at me and tightened his grip, turning his thigh in to prevent me from bringing my knee up to his crotch. My face was pressed into his chest and I knew the blood on my forehead would seep into the fabric of his shirt; I wondered if later, once I was dead, that would bother him at all.

He glared down at me, nearly a foot taller than me. His hands were now gripping my wrists against the wall by my head, the motion making his forearm contract and the thick muscles move beneath his skin. He was pressed so tightly against me I could feel the rapid thud of his heart through the firm musculature of his chest against my cheek. The bricks were rough and abrasive against my back.

The dim light and my prone position prevented me seeing much of his face, just a mass of sharp masculine lines and firm angles. His eyes glinted down at me in the near-darkness like those of a cat, and were just as eerily green.

I suddenly realised in my panic that he had been speaking to me. The roar of my heartbeat and the spiraling dizziness blocked out his words, and the throbbing pain of my concussion now returned with a vengeance. I could feel blood trickling down my forehead from the earlier injury and was once again light-headed. If his body hadn't been holding me up I would have collapsed in a boneless heap in the alley.

"Isabella! Goddamn it, girl, can you hear me? _Stop fucking fighting me!_"

I fought the urge to sob, wondering why he was even bothering to speak to me. He was too strong, too tall; even if I wasn't injured I would have been screwed. What was he waiting for? Why wasn't I dead?

"Isabella!" Then, lower, muttered, "_For fuck's sake_..."

He pulled my wrists above my head and pinned them with one massive hand, moving back from me so I was no longer pressed against the wall. He bent down to my eye-height, frowning into my face. He snapped his fingers in front of my eyes.

"Isabella, I need you to stop fighting me so I can get your head to stop bleeding and we can get the hell out of here. Give me some sort of sign that you understanding fucking English!"

I blinked at him, now not only confused but pissed. Of course I spoke English! Was he was one those stupid assholes who assumed an Italian name meant I was Italian? _Prick._

"Of course I understand you," I snapped.

He rolled his eyes. "Ah, she speaks."

"Why haven't you killed me yet?" A horrible thought then struck me. "Are you going to torture me first?

He smirked at me, a devilish crooked grin that despite the predicament made my knees weaker than before. "Believe me, Isabella, I am thinking about it."

"Huh?"

"Christ, how hard did you hit your head?" He reached into his back pocket, pulling out a cloth and held it tightly to my still-bleeding forehead.

My temper flashed then. It had been a long night, goddamn it! "Pretty fucking hard, actually. Your concern would be more touching if you assholes hadn't crashed into the bus in the first place."

He scowled at me. "I'm not with the Volturi, Isabella. I work with Jasper, and despite the fact that you're a pain in the ass who just fucking Tasered me I am here to protect you. My name is Edward Cullen." He spoke slightly more patiently now, but the edge of irritation and sarcasm remained. "Jasper showed you a picture of me, of all the operatives, when we first took you in. Do you remember?"

_Edward Cullen_. I blinked again, trying to shake the stars from my vision and looked at him more closely. The truth dawned on me as I realised with dread that his face _was_ familiar, far too good-looking to forget.

_Shit. I Tasered Carlisle's golden boy!_

"I was reaching for my ID before, so you know who I am. Is that okay, Ms. Swan, or are you planning to taser me again?" The smirk was back.

I scoffed. "Yeah, the Taser's a whole lot of use halfway down the alleyway." I frowned then. "Besides, it barely did anything. Jasper said it would drop you!"

He chuckled at that. "You need to put it on a higher setting and hit it into the chest, not my belt; you barely tapped me." He fished the familiar flip ID out of his pocket, displaying it so I could see its unique hologram and the Cullen Group logo printed on. "This week's contact password is 'serpentine'. Now, are you okay if I let you go, or are you going to try and attack me again?"

I was lost in his eyes for a moment, dazed my more than just the head injury. He started to frown, and I squeaked out, "No, I'm good, thanks."

He snorted at that and released my wrists from above my head. My muscles were by now screaming in protest at their earlier abuse from the post-crash sprint across town, and the comforting haze of adrenaline and panic had long since dissipated to leave only embarrassing weakness behind.

I slid down the wall, my legs shaking and trembling. With a low curse he grabbed my upper arm and held me upright.

"Are you going to be able to walk? We need to get out of here, now. They didn't see us come in the alley, but they'll soon double back and start checking side streets."

"I..." I wanted to lie, assure him that of course I could walk. Honestly, I didn't know how realistic that was now. So I settled for the truth, "I don't know, but I'll try."

For a second I thought I glimpsed grudging respect in his expression, but it was back to its habitual scowl before I could be sure. "I'll help you, but we need to move now." He took one of my hands and held it against the cloth on my forehead. "Keep the pressure on, it'll stop the bleeding."

He looped an arm around me and gripped me at the waist, supporting most of my body weight as he dragged me along with my feet numb and unconnected to my body. We moved deeper into the alley, pausing only to scoop up my Taser from the ground which he stuffed into my pocket.

The sound of the traffic behind us grew quieter as we went deeper into the rabbit warren...

**~ * ~**

He dragged me through the maze of back streets until I had no clue where we were. Only the distant roar of traffic and the occasional glow of a street lamp broke the steady beat of his footsteps and the dragging stumble of mine.

Then I felt him tense, the long length of body abruptly on edge as his head shot back and forth, scanning the surrounds. He was suddenly more dangerous and deadly, a narrow-eyed predator tensed for the fight. The hairs on my neck stood up in a long line and my skin shivered.

"What are you -?"

"_Shh_!" he hissed, furious. He cocked his ear, listening.

Then I heard it: the pounding of running feet on pavements, heading towards us. My heart was in my throat as he picked up the pace and darted in the opposite direction we'd been heading, dodging and weaving through a multitude of twists and turns. He was carrying more than supporting me now, though the fear gave me a fresh burst of adrenaline that allowed me to at least not hinder his quicker gait.

He did this three times more. Running deeper into the maze, then stopping to listen intently. Each time the footsteps would reappear; each time they seemed closer. I could hear him cursing under his breath as he pulled me into an even dingier street and dragged me down next to a dumpster.

The stench of the rotting garbage was unbelievable and did nothing to help the nausea rolling in my gut. I closed my eyes and groaned, leaning into the wall and trying not to lose the contents of my stomach.

Then my eyes shot open in shock as I felt his hands on me, running over the cloth of my t-shirt and over breasts. His fingers were long and calloused, firm and probing against me, then they dipped under my shirt to roughly trace my bare skin. The contact sent a jolt through me, like forked lightning under my skin that was so intense I almost expected to see a spark.

It distracted me for a moment, and him too as his hands paused, then I felt him trace the length of my bra strap and I snapped back to reality, struggling back from him.

"Are you _crazy? _What the hell are you doing?" I whispered furiously.

He rolled his eyes and jerked me back towards him, now running him hands over my shoulders."Give me a break, princess. I don't have time for you to be a prima donna."

"A _prima donna_? You're insane and you're lucky I haven't Tasered your ass again!"

He removed his hands from my shirt, but just as quickly started pushing them roughly through my hair and over my scalp before running him thumbs down my ears. I whole body shivered involuntarily as he brushed by lobes and the sensitive skin behind them.

I heard a low chuckle at my reaction, and my temper flared. "I can't believe Jasper sent me a certifiable pervert who is trying to grope me behind a dumpster instead of escaping!" I hissed, too aware of our pursuers to raise my voice and scream at him as I wanted to.

He snorted. "Hah! Don't flatter yourself, I'm just doing my job. And besides, no offence but you're a little too skinny for my taste."

I sneered at that. _Jackass._ "Then what the fuck are you _doing?_"

Then I felt his palms sliding over the denim shorts covering my ass, and I jumped and made a girly _yelp_ sound that made him snigger lowly. He dipped one hand into the back right pocket over my butt with a grin and pulled out a small black disc the size of my thumbnail.

"This, princess. I was looking for this."

"What the hell is that?" I hissed.

_And more importantly, how the hell did it end up in _that _pocket?_

**~ * ~**

**EPOV**

"This, girly, is a GPS device. They're using it to track you, that's how they keep finding us. Now, shut the fuck up so I can deal with it."

She didn't say a word, her doe eyes wide and her pink lips parted in a shocked 'O'. Ah, at last the key to shutting her up. Too bad I didn't have the time to enjoy it.

I scanned our surroundings. I didn't just want to toss the device - it was too much of a giveaway if it just suddenly went still. I could hear traffic louder to our left and headed that way, dragging little Miss. Taser-happy along with me. We approached a moderately busy side road after a few minutes and I tossed the device into the open bed of a red Chevy truck heading south.

I pulled the still silent brunette along the street in the opposite direction, heading off the road and back into the poorly lit side streets. I shot her a dark glower and pressed my finger against my lip, communicating clearly that her current silence was very much appreciated and better damn well continue.

Then I slid her to the ground beside another dumpster. She wrinkled her nose at the smell, and I barely resisted the impulse to roll my eyes at her again. _Spoilt, little..._

I stood on the edge of the street, watching down the road without revealing myself. Moments later three dark-haired men came running out; I could hear their breathless pants and muffled curses from here. My lip curled in distain - it'd barely been a decent chase at all, and I'd been dragging the accident magnet along. _No stamina_.

Two of them began running south, following the truck now carrying the GPS device, while the other man yanked out a phone and snarled a stream of Italian into the receiver. Less than five minutes later a blue BMW screeched to the sidewalk in front of them, the phone-guy jumped in and tore off down the street in the same direction.

I snorted. _Fucking amateurs_.

I glanced back to check on the Volturi chick and saw that she was where I'd left her, still pressing the cloth to her forehead and her eyes showing too much white. The sight startled me and for a crazy minute I was struck by the urge to...hug her or some shit. The wildcat from earlier was gone and now she just looked fucking...scared. And lost.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, breaking my attention. Jasper. I whipped it out and he spoke immediately.

"Do you have her?" he demanded tersely.

"Yeah." I pinched the bridge of my nose, leaning back against the side of the building next to us. "There were some complications -" _under-exaggeration of the goddamn century_ "- but we're clear now. We need transportation though and we're at least half an hour from my car."

"What's your plan?"

I glanced dubiously at Isabella; she looked too pale and was definitely not up for another dash through the streets. I could carry her, but as she looked banged up and vulnerable there'd be too many odd looks and fucking questions. It would attract attention neither of us could afford right now.

"Edward, you still there?"

"Yeah." I sighed, running my hand through my hair. The exhaustion was starting to creep up on me now. "I'll jack a car, drive through to Washington. Have someone meet us at the Nevada border - it's too risky to cross with a stolen car. Too risky to fly either, the Volturi will be watching the airports." I paused. "I'm still bringing her to Seattle, right?"

Jasper sounded tired. "Yeah. They'll probably know that where we'll take her, but right now I'm out of ideas. Every goddamn place we send her, no matter how remote, they always find her. The more we hide her the more damage we do; maybe a show of force is the best way now."

I frowned. "Tell me you're not thinking what I think you're thinking, Jasper."

"It's the only way. We'll keep her at the house with Esme and Alice until we figure out what the hell to do. If we leave her out on her own again, she's going to get killed."

I lowered my voice so she couldn't hear me. "So stick her somewhere with a discrete guard. You keep her at my father's house and it'll be like painting a bulls-eye on her ass."

"Don't you think I tried that already? Christ, Edward, every time we give her a guard they find her even quicker! They're really pulling out all the stops for this one, they want her bad and you know they have eyes everywhere. They're like fucking rats." He paused. "Aro's offering a small fortune for her and a serious step-up in their organisation for whichever bastard brings her in."

I frowned, then spoke even more quietly. "Bring her in? I thought they just want her dead. Didn't they blow up her car last month?"

Jasper sighed. "Yeah, but we think they just wanted to get her guards. Your father got his hands on a copy of Aro's orders last week - they're very explicit that she's to be brought in still breathing. She doesn't know though. If she had any idea what they've got planned for her..." He tapered off. "Well, I'll just say she's better off thinking they just want to kill her."

I looked back to her. She was hugging her knees, curled into a ball on the ground. Her eyes stared sightlessly into the opposite wall and her tangled hair half-hid her expression from view. The bleeding from her head had now stopped but she was still the colour of a sheet. I needed to get her in a car and warmed up before she goes into shock.

"I'm getting a car now," I said, spotting a likely candidate halfway down the street. "We'll meet at the usual Nevada rendezvous; I'll contact you when we're half an hour away."

"Sure thing." I could hear him breathe out, in relief or exasperation I could not tell; the sounds of the orchestra from the symphony were still faint in the background. "Take care of her, Edward."

I repeated his earlier words back to him, eyes locked on the suddenly fragile creature in my care. "Sure thing, Jazz."

**~ * ~**

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	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Stephenie Meyer owns all. I just own an obsession with all things Twilight.**

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**CHAPTER FIVE**

_**Previously (EPOV)**_

_"Take care of her, Edward."_

_I sighed and repeated his earlier words back to him, eyes locked on the suddenly fragile creature in my care. "Sure thing, Jazz." _

**~ * ~**

**BPOV**

My nerves were frayed and stretched. I could feel my body shaking, each abused muscle trembling and screaming at me for respite.

I was thankful when Edward finally ceased our rapid flight and sat me down in the dirty alley floor, even if I was curled next to a dumpster. The smell made my stomach roil, the impending nausea from my head injury returning with teeth and fire as I breathed shallowly through my mouth to avoid spilling my stomach everywhere.

I was vaguely aware that he was on the phone. I thought he was talking to Jasper, but the events of the night were catching up with me and it was all I could do to stay conscious and not scream. As he finished the call, his gaze pinned me to the wall.

He looked different. The look in his eyes was almost...compassion? It was so at odds to the casual distain he'd shown me since he rescued me that I doubted my own perception.

Further contemplation on this issue was interrupted by the sickly shaking that racked my frame. I leaned forward, resting my head between my knees and groaned. _Please please _please _don't throw up everywhere._

My timing was always inconvenient.

"Isabella?" I was distantly aware that he was crouching before me, steadying me with hands on my shoulders, but I couldn't stop shivering. I could hear him speaking again but didn't dare open my mouth to respond, too scared that I'd spill the last of my dinner all over him.

The ringing in my ears was louder now, a cacophony of jackhammers and pounding and steam whistles. I felt him lift me from the ground, one arm scooping my knees while the other curved my shoulders into his frame. I was aware of him walking out of the side street, carrying me, as smoothly as possible but each footstep jarred my tremulous control and eventually I grasped his forearm, wordlessly trying to communicate what I could not express.

He seemed to understand, quickly swinging me from his arms and holding back my hair as I vomited in the street. Any sense of embarrassment was eclipsed by the physical gratitude of expelling the content of my body, sating myself as the sick dizziness abated and I finally felt a little better.

Edward waited until I was done, then wiped my lips with a cloth before lifting me to a spot a few feet away from the sour stench of my vomit. His touch seemed more careful now, gentler. He crouched down to my eye-line, the intense green of his eyes capturing me once again.

"Sit tight, okay? I'm going to get us transportation, I'll be back in a couple of minutes." He paused, brushing sweaty hair from my brow. "Will you be okay?"

I nodded, unable to do anything else. After all, if I wasn't okay it was irrelevant - we had to get out of here. Now.

His brief disappearance was more unnerving than I would have anticipated. Harsh hiccoughs jerked my body, made the headache much worse. I brought my knees up to my chest and clung to myself, closing my eyes and reciting meaningless song lyrics in my head to keep the nausea at bay.

He returned quickly and picked me up without a word, walking a little too fast for my tender stomach and each step jarred me. I held my breath and closed my eyes, willing myself not to be sick again in front of this infuriatingly beautiful man.

_Wait, did I just think 'beautiful'? Really _really_ hope I didn't say that out loud..._

I heard a car door opening and then felt cool leather seat against the bare skin of my legs and arms, the difference in temperature a welcome change from the sweaty Arizona air. I focused on the smooth beige dashboard in front of me as he dashed around the car and climbed in the driver's seat. The engine purred to life and he took off northbound on the street.

"Where did you get the car?" I asked, my voice hoarse from retching.

"Stole it."

I snorted. "You stole a car?"

"Yes." He glanced at me, then scowled. "Perhaps your well-developed morality would prefer for us to take public transportation and lead your husband's people straight to us?"

I grimaced, curling my fists to restrain the impulse to slap his stupid, arrogant, beautiful face. "Of course not. And that asshole isn't my husband, we never got married." I folded my arms over my chest. "I'm just a little surprised - I didn't know that the Cullen Group listed petty larceny as one of their many skills."

He scoffed and shook his head, somehow making even that sound bewitching. "It's hardly petty larceny. Don't you know anything about cars? This is a Porsche 911 Turbo, and I can assure you it is beyond 'petty'."

I had no response to that, no response to him. He tore me in knots without even trying. I concentrated on regulating my breathing. At least my head had stopped bleeding now; hopefully the spinning would cease next.

He glanced at me a couple of times, seemingly waiting my snappy come back. I wanted to snarl, but was too keen to disappoint him. And too tired.

Eventually he spoke, "Are you okay?" If I didn't know better I'd almost think he was worried.

_Am I okay?_ The question was so laughable, so beyond ridiculous that I failed to contained the snort of laughter. He stared at me as if I had just brandished a syringe and asked where the next heroin hangout was.

I was so far beyond 'okay' that the stragglers would be handing out roadmaps to redirect to the land of the sane. My life had deteriorated into a mockery, cliche of predictions and self-righteous morality.

Hell no. I was not okay.

"Isabella?"

I snapped; Demetri always called me Isabella and I hated hearing it. "For fuck's sake, _please_ stop calling me that. I prefer Bella."

I braced for the barbed response, but all he said was, "Fine. Bella it is."

We drove on, Arizona flying by our window. I tried to regulate my breathing, but the rising heat and fuzziness crept across my ribs and shoulders and settled like a dark cloud around my jawline. Couldn't he have stolen something with decent air con? I felt sick again.

"Pull over."

He frowned at me. "What?"

"Pull the fucking car over _right now_ unless you want me to throw up on your lap."

In other circumstances I would have laughed at how quickly he stopped the car and screeched to a halt by the side of the highway, but now was not the time for levity. I flung the door open and staggered out, heading for the bushes and pulling my hair aside as the few remaining contents of my stomach spread themselves across the highway.

I retched and convulsed, barely managing to push aside the pain in my head to avoid face-planting into my own bile. Vaguely I felt long-fingered warm hands once again pushing my curls back from my face, rubbing soothing circles into my back as I dry-heaved and coughed acidic yellow liquid beside the road.

I finished, falling back onto my ass and scooting away, every muscle trembling. The sky was spinning around me in an ever-increasing dance. I closed my eyes, distantly aware that strong hands lifted me and laid me in the grass away from the smell.

Long minutes passed.

Then, I heard a voice. It was low, masculine, velvet. "Are you okay?" He seemed to be asking me that a lot.

I shrugged off the helping hands. "I'm fine," I croaked, my display of independence somewhat damaged by the trembling and hoarseness of my voice.

He chuckled lowly. "Sure you are."

Before I could protest he lifted me in his arms, wiping my mouth and smoothing the sweaty hair from my brow. He carried me to the car, this time cranking my seat back until it was almost horizontal and folding his sweater as a pillow behind my head.

"Just sleep, Isabella. We'll be at the motel in the hour, so get all the rest you can now."

I coughed, grimacing at the reminded taste of bile, but managed to speak. "Bella."

"What?"

I coughed again, but my voice was firmer this time. "Call me Bella, please." I coughed again, then lost myself in those cat-green eyes. "He called me Isabella and I don't think I'm strong enough to bear that again."

He stared at me forever, then spoke. "Bella it is then. Now sleep." I closed my eyes, drifting into a haze of shadows. Then I heard him whisper, as if he didn't want me to hear, "Please."

So I slept.

**~ * ~**

**EPOV**

As if my suggestion was a hypnotist's command she fell asleep instantly, her expression relaxed and the furrow between her brows finally smoothed out. I had to fight to keep my attention on the road, to stop myself from staring at her.

She looked so pale and innocent and helpless while she slept. Her earlier feistiness and determination that let her outrun three full-grown men and snipe at me while fleeing for her life had disappeared, and now she looked oddly childlike and unnervingly young.

In light of the strength and spirit she'd demonstrated in the last hour, my preconceptions of her seemed way off-base. When I'd first heard of Isabella Swan, the eighteen-year-old who somehow ended up engaged to a man nearly twice her age with a bank account big enough to buy Arizona, I'd assumed she would be a spoilt, ambitious princess-type. But her face didn't reflect that, and her behaviour certainly didn't. I wouldn't if she'd been changed by having to run and hide from the family she very nearly married into, or whether she'd been like this all along.

How the hell had someone like her ended up engaged to Demetri Volturi?

When I first saw her running towards me I'd been shocked, a tiny pale wide-eyed figure with blood running down her face and wild brown curls flying behind her. She was nearly flying down the streets, her survival instinct outweighing the fact that her pursuers had nearly twice the leg-length she did.

I smiled to myself, remembering the fight that she'd put up when I grabbed her, begrudgingly impressed that she'd managed to Taser me when I had her pinned. I sincerely hoped that Emmett doesn't hear about that - I'll never live that shit down. It was lucky for me she'd only been able to hit my belt, the leather taking the brunt of the shock. If she'd managed to reach higher I'd have been down on my ass.

And then she would have ran straight out of the alley and been caught by _them_. The thought made my gut clench uncomfortably.

I groaned, suddenly remembering the feel of her flesh under my fingers when I'd been searching for the GPS device. How they planted it on her I had no idea - perhaps in the bus crash she mentioned? I'd have to ask her later.

Her skin was soft and silky. I'd been totally unprepared for the shock when my fingers touched her bare skin and it had only been thanks to her outraged sarcasm that I'd resisted the urge to linger at each curve and dip. The feel of my hands gliding over the swell of her buttocks made me obscenely grateful that the GPS device had been slipped into her back pocket...

_Focus, Cullen!_

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, glancing at Bella guiltily as if she could see the illicit thoughts dancing through my brain. She was still fast asleep, her lips now parted slightly and her head buried into her makeshift pillow.

I mentally scanned the briefing information that Jasper had sent me on Bella. I knew she was now nineteen, had been protected by us for nearly four months and the US witness protection service before that. She'd spent her senior year in Italy at Volterra Academy as part of their exchange programme, one of the many devices the Volturi used to keep their public image squeaky clean.

And I knew that she'd somehow ended up living with and engaged to Aro's eldest son, Demetri, who was also the principal of the school she was attending. Those were not the actions of an innocent girl. Indecision warred within me and for a moment I wanted to shake her awake and ask her what the hell she was thinking when she accepted his ring!

Thankfully for both of us, I managed to restrain myself.

The motel I had in mind for a few hours sleep was fast approaching. It seemed foolhardy to stop before we left the state, but I was confident they hadn't followed us and it was unexpected enough that they wouldn't be searching seedy off-route motels. Besides, my lack of sleep was seriously beginning to catch up on me and I needed to close my eyes for at least a couple of hours if I was going to be of any use to Bella.

I glanced at her sleeping form. She needed rest too, and in a real bed. Her skin was so chalky that it was only the subtle rise and fall of her chest that convinced me she was even breathing.

I took the turn-off to the motel, avoiding the parking lot and heading towards an unlit area off the highway so the flashy car would be less noticeable. I chided myself for stealing _this_ car, but - damn! I smirked. It was a Porsche 911, Alice would be so proud.

I reached over and gently shook Bella's shoulder. She stirred and blinked blearily at me, her look of confusion...adorable.

_Wait. Back the fuck up. She is a client. She nearly married the son of Satan. She is to be protected. She is _not_ to be described as adorable._

Bella looked even more confused then, possibly from the black scowl that had appeared in response to my thoughts. I forced a more neutral expression.

"We're at the motel. Just stay here for a minute while I go get a room key."

She nodded and I headed towards the office, hoping whoever was manning it would be dopey enough to not realise that we'd seemingly arrived without a car. I struck gold: the kid's eyes were bloodshot and his expression vacant as he watched _Family Guy_, munching on beef jerky and Oreos.

"Hey." I slapped my hand on the counter to get his attention, internally smirking as I startled him and he dropped the jerky. _Prick_. "Need a room." I tossed a handful of folded bills on the counter.

He nodded like a zombie and tossed me a key to room 5, not even bothering to ask me to sign the book before returning his attention to the cartoon. Perfect.

I headed back to the car, helping Bella out and steadying her steps. I would pick her up, but a six-foot-two guy carrying an semi-unconscious beat-up woman might be a sight odd enough register even on that stoner's radar.

I let us into the room. The air smelled stale and slightly mildewy, but I'd seen worse. I motioned Bella to the bed and settled myself in the room's only armchair.

"We can only stay here for a couple of hours so get some rest," I said, running my hand through my hair as I set the alarm on my phone to wake us.

She blinked at me, doe-eyes wide. "Are you not sleeping?"

_Is she kidding me? I'm a half-step away from passing out._ "Yes, I'm sleeping."

"Then why are you sitting on the chair?"

_Because I don't want to assault you while you're asleep_. "Just get on the goddamn bed, Swan. The chair's fine."

She rolled her eyes and scooted over to the far-side of the double. "Don't be such a douche. I've Tasered you, bled on you and you've seen me throw up. Twice. Just get on the fucking bed and stop being such a girl."

I stared at her in shock before bursting out laughing. As I walked over, shaking my head, I could see a small smug smile at the corner of her lips before she rolled over onto her side, facing away from me. Still chuckling, I lay down on top of the sheets and closed my eyes.

Isabella Swan was going to be the death of me, and I'm not entirely sure that I minded that at all.

~ * ~

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	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Stephenie Meyer owns all. I just own a can of fly spray and an unfortunately placed wasps' nest outside my window.**

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**CHAPTER SIX**

_**Previously (EPOV)**_

_She rolled her eyes and scooted over to the far-side of the double. "Don't be such a douche. I've Tasered you, bled on you and you've seen me throw up. Twice. Just get on the fucking bed and stop being such a girl."_

_I stared at her in shock before bursting out laughing. As I walked over, shaking my head, I could see a small smug smile at the corner of her lips before she rolled over onto her side, facing away from me. Still chuckling, I lay down on top of the sheets and closed my eyes._

_Isabella Swan was going to be the death of me, and I'm not entirely sure that I minded that at all._

**EPOV**

I fell swiftly into unconsciousness and relished the absence of dreams that comes with true exhaustion. The last thing I was aware of was the soft breathing of Bella as she lay across from me, mumbling incoherencies into the night.

After I time I began to wake. Iblinked, unwilling rising to consciousness as the urges of my body begged me to rest, to _sleep_ for so much longer! I felt like I had hardly laid my face on the pillow at all. Groaning, I shook my head and opened my eyes, instantly slamming my lids back down and grimacing as it felt like someone had sandpapered me while I was asleep.

I was surprised to find myself unusually warm; I took a deep breath and was enveloped by the scent of strawberries and flowers. Opening my eyes once again I found myself staring into a pale, heart-shaped face with soft pink lips parted in sleep. Bella's body was warm and soft and wrapped around mine, one of her legs between mine and the other half-over my hip. Her hands were curled beneath her chin and tugged into the fabric of my shirt.

I was surprised to find that my arms had unconsciously cradled her, tucking her head into my shoulder and burying my nose into her wild tangled curls. I found myself fighting a smile; she was so innocent and vulnerable in her slumber.

I wanted to stay there, but my mind was screaming at me to back off. She was a client. She was Demetri's fiance, for fuck's sake!

But I wanted to trace the delicate line of her cheekbones, trail my fingers along the spidery blue veins webbing over her eyelids. The spot above her left brow was now swollen into a dark purplish-brown goose egg, but thankfully the small gash there had clotted and long ceased bleeding. The beginnings of a scab was starting to form.

I disentangled myself from her grasp, careful not to wake her, and let myself out of the room. I automatically scanned the parking lot before locking the door behind me, anxious to leave her alone even for a few minutes. I was pleased to see that the Porsche was still unnoticeable to the casual observer as I headed towards the vending machines. After extended wrangling with the machines I won two bottles of water and a handful of snacks, narrowly resisting the temptation to growl and kick the ancient contraptions as they devoured at least half the money I put in there.

When I let myself back into the room Bella had not stirred an inch. She was...beautiful.

_Of course she's beautiful. How else did she manoeuvre herself into Demetri's bed and bank account? _

She may look innocent, but her past actions and deeds speak otherwise. But, still... I scowled at the unsettling argument brewing within me. The incongruence between Isabella's past motivations and present behaviour was not my concern: my only priority was to keep her alive and deliver her back to Carlisle so she could be kept alive until the trial.

I half-jumped as my phone buzzed in my pocket, the alarm I had set earlier going off. It was just before four a.m. and the night air was still unusually warm, the only noise was the distant buzz of traffic on the highway and the chirping of the cicadas.

Time to go. I shook Bella's shoulder gently, murmuring to her that she needed to wake. She didn't stir. I pushed her more forcefully, careful not to exacerbate her earlier head injury and nausea, but still no response.

I frowned and slapped her cheek lightly, then with more force as she still didn't awaken. I hit her again, careful not to bruise or damage her, and shouted her name into her ear. _Shit._

My heart was pounding now, my mouth dry. In that instance the years of training and experience in the field fled me, leaving me a panicked rookie that just wanted to shake her and scream until she awoke. I swore viciously and repeatedly, running my hands through my hair as I desperately tried to figure out what to do.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and it was only as I was dialing Jasper's emergency number that I realised my fingers were trembling.

Eyes locked on the pale slip of a girl on the bed, I let the phone ring and prayed that Jasper would answer quickly.

**~ * ~**

**JPOV**

The ushers gave me sidelong speculative glances as I sat in the hallway. I suppose I must be an oddity to them, carrying exclusive box-seat tickets and wearing an obnoxiously-expensive tailored tuxedo while I sat slumped against the wall, uncaring of the dust of the floor. I could hear the symphony still, the deep bass of the orchestra reverberating through the wall behind me.

Alice was going to kill me. But I couldn't go back, couldn't sit and smile as the orchestra led them into the third movement. I had to know whether Bella was safe. I trusted Edward, but her atrocious luck and the Volturi's determination made nothing certain.

I checked the time compulsively, setting my jaw to restrain my leg from twitching against the carpet. A couple more ushers had peeked their head around the corner, but had quickly retreated when met with my icy glare.

Eventually, I could bare it no longer. I pulled the phone out and dialed Edward, hoping fervently that the quiet buzz of his cellphone would not betray them to their pursuers. Carlisle would kill me.

Thankfully he answered almost immediately. I had a brief moment of annoyance that he hadn't contacted me so far if he could answer so quickly, but suppressed it as I breathed into the phone, "Do you have her?"

"Yeah." I closed my eyes, my muscles unclenching and relaxing. Then I tensed again at Edward's next words. "There were some complications, but we're clear now."

My mind raced, wanting to know what had happened. But years of training conditioned me to see the reality - whatever had passed was irrelevant; if it was safe enough for Edward to talk on the phone that was all that mattered.

He continued, "We need transportation thought and we're at least half an hour from my car."

I wondered what had caused them to flee so far. Edward was notorious for being a perfectionist, anticipating and planning a dizzying web of contingency plans that very rarely left him surprised or unprepared. Not too mention the hissy fit he usually threw when his precious Volvo was left behind. "What's your plan?"

He didn't answer for a long time, but his breathing was heavy and laboured. _What the hell is going on? _"Edward, you still there?"

"Yeah," he sighed. I snorted quietly to myself, almost hearing the damage his hair was taking as he tugged at it mercilessly; his one sure sign of stress. Edward quickly explained his plan to steal a car and meet in Nevada. I nodded along, making a mental note to arrange the contact to meet them at the usual spot.

He spoke more and I confirmed that the plan was to bring Bella to Washington. I expected Edward's response - after all, proposing to bring such a volatile target to his family home would be a sore subject. Still, his voice was harsher than I expected.

"Tell me you're not thinking what I think you're thinking, Jasper."

I rolled my eyes, clenching my jaw to suppress my irritation. If there was an alternative doesn't he realise I would have already ran with it? Alice may be his sister, but she is my _wife_, she carried my child and she is my whole world. There was no other choice now. "It's the only way. We'll keep her at the house with Esme and Alice until we figure out what the hell to do. If we leave her out on her own again, she's going to get killed."

We argued some more and it was only the very public setting I was in that stopped me from yelling and swearing into the ear piece. Edward was surprised that the Volturi wanted her alive; he'd been away from base for the last five weeks and hadn't been privy to Emmett's and Rose's most recent intelligence. I wanted to tell him the full story now, but Carlisle's rules were strict when it came to divulging information over the phone.

I listened to him some more, but I was distracted as I closed my eyes and remembered when I first met Bella. She'd been with the US witness protection service for nearly four months when her final safe house had been exposed. She'd fled out of the window, nearly tearing the skin from her back as she wriggled through and half-ran, half-fell down the fire escape. I located her two blocks away from the gunfire, shaking and tiny and scared, yet she'd still managed to kick me so hard in the nuts I was honestly afraid there'd be no little Jaspers running around in the future.

Edward interrupted my musings, saying, "I'm getting a car now. We'll meet at the usual Nevada rendezvous; I'll contact you when we're half an hour away."

"Sure thing." I closed my eyes, remembering Bella's wide too-young but too-old eyes trusting me with her safety. She was so brave and she didn't even realise it. She knew she was probably going to die, but she just wanted to take the Volturi down before they ended her. Her sense of justice far out-weighed her sense of self-preservation, and that terrified me.

I opened my mouth to express this, to try and explain the enigma that was Isabella Swan. But there was no time, and there were no words. So all I said was, "Take care of her, Edward."

"Sure thing, Jazz."

The phone clicked off. I sighed, and rejoined my wife in the auditorium.

**~ * ~**

Alice was furious when I finally sat back beside her, but she pursed her lips and didn't say a word. The orchestra was winding down now, the final movement soaring out along the perfect acoustics as I stared at my wife and silently pleaded with her to understand. I knew it was unfair of me - she was more understanding and compassionate of my job than I deserved - but her steely laser glare reminded me that this was our anniversary and I'd promised _no_ interruptions.

Especially since her birthday. I winced at the memory, still seeing Alice's smiling face as she cut the cake soon disintegrate into concern, worry and then anger as I fled her party and didn't contact her for four days.

She understood better than I could hope for. After all, she was Carlisle's daughter and Edward's sister. She'd grown up expecting distant behaviour, mysterious brief communications and long unexplained absences. Alice had fled as a child with her mother, Esme, and knew firsthand the lengths that had to be taken when hiding from danger.

But still... She was carrying our child now and even though she had yet to voice it I knew she expected more. Knew she deserved more. And she did. Our child did.

I took her hand, caressing her knuckles and gently lowering my lips to graze the soft silky skin, gazing at her through her lashes and communicating my apologies and my love. She was my everything. I trailed my other hand over the swell of her belly, smiling at the subtle curve that was not yet noticeable unless you know exactly what you were looking for.

She didn't speak, I didn't speak. There was nothing to say. She unwillingly met my eyes and in an instance she softened, warmed me with her love and cradled my cheek. There was nothing to forgive, she knew the realities of my life, my job. But Alice's understanding was being stretched and my heart pounded when I worried where it would take us.

**~ * ~**

We travelled back from the symphony hall in relative silence, only exchanging murmured comments on the quality of the musicians and the dinner we had shared earlier in the evening. She didn't let go of my hand and never looked away from my eyes, communicating to me in our way that went beyond words and sound that it was okay. That we were okay.

I led her into the house, nodding at the security guards as they opened the gate and then the front doors for us. My mind briefly returned to Bella, wondering if it was safe to bring her here or whether I'd be calling disaster down upon all ours heads.

I backed my wife into the bedroom, my hands tracing her lower back and never breaking our gaze for an instance. I cradled her sweet, loving face, stroking her cheeks and hair and leaving a trail of butterfly kisses down her neck and shoulders as I tenderly peeled her dress and underwear from her. Lowering Alice onto the coverlet I smiled and kissed her stomach, nuzzling into the ripe swell of life she carried.

I kissed and whispering and licked and worshiped, my hands and body showing her I was sorry and how much she meant to me. I caressed every inch of her quivering skin, groaning as I touched her wetness and ran long-fingered hands over her tiny pixie-like body. She gasped and shivered and moaned until I finally hovered above her, entering her with a mutual groan as both of our bodies whimpered in shock at the connection.

I held her tight as if I could as if I would crawl inside her and become one creature, breathing the same air and relishing the wet heat of her, when -

_RING RING! RING RING!!_

The spell was shattered. The soft erotic glow of Alice's features deteriorated into a medusa glare and a stream of curses that would make a sailer blanche. I almost expected to the see the inky black spikes of her hair reform themselves into a sea of hissing adders ready to bite my eyes out.

"Jasper, I fucking swear if you answer that fucking phone while you're inside me - literally in the middle of _fucking_ me - then you are a dead man."

I closed my eyes and groaned, begging her silently to understand one more time as I reached to the night stand and pressed the green button on the phone that I _always_ answered. Alice, beneath me and her body still enveloping me, rolled her head back and muttered viciously under her breath. The twitching of her hips and body nearly made me lose myself.

I was shaking and furious when I answered the call, growling like a madman into the phone, "What is it, Edward? This is really bad fucking timing."

"It's Bella." I froze, shocked at hearing the undercurrent of panic in Edward's voice, my desire and anger dissolving away. I'd known him since we were teenagers and he'd never sounded like this. Alice reacted to the change in my body language and stared at me with concern now.

I spoke slowly, deliberately. "What's wrong with her?"

I heard him gulp, he sounded like he was on the verge of hyperventilating. "I can't wake her up, Jasper. She hit her head a few hours ago, it was bleeding and she was sick... She seemed okay though, knew who she was and the disorientation was minimal. But now...she just won't wake up. What the fuck do I do?"

**~ * ~**

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	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Stephenie Meyer owns all. I just own a new set of awesome exam results that made me squeal and a very pretty scarf from Camden market.**

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**CHAPTER SEVEN**

_**Previously (JPOV)**_

_"What is it, Edward? This is really bad fucking timing."_

_"It's Bella." I froze, shocked at hearing the undercurrent of panic in Edward's voice, my desire and anger dissolving away. I'd known him since we were teenagers and he'd never sounded like this. Alice reacted to the change in my body language and stared up at me with concern now._

_I spoke slowly, deliberately. "What's wrong with her?"_

_I heard him gulp, he sounded like he was on the verge of hyperventilating. "I can't wake her up, Jasper. She hit her head a few hours ago, it was bleeding and she was sick... She seemed okay though, knew who she was and the disorientation was minimal. But now...she just won't wake up. What the fuck do I do?"_

**~ * ~**

**EPOV**

I could almost hear Jasper freezing at my words and the creak of bed springs and the rustle of cloth as he moved.

I'm sure he had a hundred questions, but all he barked was, "Hang on." Sound was muffled as he covered the mouthpiece, but I could still hear him speaking to Alice. "_Edward's with a witness - sounds like she has a head injury and he can't wake her and the hospital is too dangerous_."

Alice came on the line then, her bird-like tone abruptly clipped and professional. Not for the first time I was so grateful and proud that my sister had decided to become a doctor, and I gradually felt the rising panic fade as I buried myself back into the stoic mask I'd long-since perfected.

"Edward? Tell me what's going on."

"Alice," I sighed. I gave a brief rundown of Bella's symptoms and injury, describing the disorientation and nausea and the fact that she'd fallen asleep a little over two hours ago.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" she hissed, the phone almost twitching with her agitation. "You know better than anyone the first rule when dealing with a head injury is _not to let them go to sleep_!"

I groaned and ran my hands furiously through my hair. "I know, _I know_ - but she was so fucking tired and pale, I thought it would be okay if I let her sleep and then woke her up in a couple of hours."

I could almost hear the sarcastic comeback threatening to bubble off Alice's tongue, but the urgency of the situation restrained her.

"Have you checked her vitals?"

"She's breathing, a little slow but evenly. Pulse seems slow but still strong."

"What's her BPM?"

"I haven't checked."

Alice sighed in exasperation. "Check the carotid artery in her neck. Start counting beats when I tell you." I obeyed, stopping the count at twenty-three when she told me to after what felt like about thirty seconds.

"Forty-six beat per minute," she mused. "It's slower than I'd like, but still within the normal range for the someone sleeping. How's her colour?"

I examined Bella. She was pale, but then her whole body was unusually white for someone living in Arizona - like light cream. She wasn't chalky like she had been before and there was the slightest hint of her pink her cheeks. "It's okay, I think."

"Okay, Edward, now I need you to try and wake her. Press on her sternum firmly - but not too hard, you don't want to break her."

I frowned into the phone. "Her sternum? What the fuck -"

"Her breastbone, jackass! You know, the bit between her boobs - I know it's been a while but surely you remember what those are? We were in the same biology class."

I growled at her sarcasm but did at she asked, pressing tentatively at first and then more firmly. "Nothing," I snapped. "Any more brilliant ideas, Alice?"

"Don't be an asshole - I'm the one with the MD, Edward, you're just the one with the gun. Do you have a torch, or a penlight or something?"

I crossed the room and pulled my keys from my jacket pocket, quickly locating the miniature penlight key ring hanging there. "Yes."

"Lift her eyelids up and shine the light in each of her eyes. Watch the pupils carefully."

I knelt on the bed beside Bella, her form dipping into me as I compressed the mattress springs, and carefully lifted her right eyelid. It was disturbing to see her chocolate brown orbs with no recognition or spark in them, and my gut clenched uncomfortably. Pushing it aside I shined the light directly into her eye, watching as the pupil shrunk down to a small dot. I did the same with the other eye, relieved to see an identical reaction.

"Both pupils constrict equally to the light. That's good, right?"

"Yes, that's good." Alice sounded calmer now, less stressed. "It sounds like she has a grade two concussion, maybe a grade three. Unless you want to take her to the hospital there's nothing you can do but monitor her and let her rest."

"But you said not to let her sleep."

"Well, it's a bit late for that now considering she's already unconscious!"

I exhaled slowly and pinched the bridge of my nose with my hand. She was going to be fine - I just had to wait for her to wake up. "Thank you, Alice."

"No problem. I'll hand you back to Jasper."

I heard fumbling and soft murmurs, then Jasper came back on the line. He also sounded calmer now, clearly having been listening to the emergency consult with his wife. "Where are you now, Edward?"

"In a motel about three hours north of Phoenix."

"You need to get back on the road. You're sitting ducks there, and Alice assures me that it will make no difference to Bella whether she's resting in a bed or in a car. Just recline the seat and check on her regularly. Right?"

"Right." It was true - Jasper _was_ right, it was far too dangerous to sit here waiting for the Volturi to find us. Focus on the reality - there's nothing I can do but watch her sleep and wait for her to come round. May as well do it from the front seat of a car. "I'll be on the road in five minutes. I'll be in touch."

"Sure thing, Edward. Check in before nine." He clicked off and the line went dead.

**~ * ~**

The dead buzz of the telephone line burrowed into my ear. With a low curse I thrust the phone back into my pocket, slipping the shoulder holster back on before I redressed into my jacket. It was specially tailored to Alice's design, carefully concealing the presence of weapons beneath the hemline.

I checked Bella's breathing and pulse once again, then hurried out of the door and dashed across to the office. The whole time as I returned the key and scrawled a fake name into the book my eye-line was locked on the door to our cabin, ready to end anyone who approached.

I jogged across the parking lot back towards our room, scooping our meagre belongings up and hurrying to put them into the Porsche. Then I returned for her, still shaken to see that she didn't stir as I lifted her into my arms and placed her carefully into the front seat. I cranked the chair back once again, tilting her onto her side facing me so that she wouldn't choke if she was sick again, and also so that I could see her face as I drove.

I shifted the stick like a man possessed, hurtling the vehicle out of the motel and back into the freeway in a blur of scorched tires. I checked the mirrors and the blind spots compulsively for at least half an hour until I gradually started to relax, confident that we'd evaded our pursuers for now.

I looked at her constantly, relishing each increment of colour that grew upon her peaches and cream complexion. Each rise and fall of her chest that reassured she me was still breathing. After a few miles my mind turned to other matters, the events of the last hour rolling over me relentlessly.

Why had I reacted like that? It wasn't the first time I'd seen blood, it certainly wasn't the first time I'd seen a client fade and falter before me. I'd been in this life for nearly nine years and in that time I'd witnessed countless gun shots - mine and others - brutal car crashes, desperate choked pleas, and I'd seen far too many people die. Yet, with her...it seemed different, somehow. More real.

I rode long and hard, my eyes locked on the highway unfolding before us as we fled from Phoenix. A couple of times I stopped the car and pulled over on the hard shoulder, checking her pulse rate and her pupils, before restarting our journey towards the north.

It wasn't until the sky was lightening with the first signs of the rising sun that she stirred. I glanced at her anxiously as her fingertips curled and clenched and a low moan escaped her lips. I called her name, but there was no response.

The sun rose in a blinding explosion against my right window, shocking ribbons of orange and yellow blurring into the birth of a new day. I reached into the glove compartment and found a pair of large men's sunglasses, a little too designer for my taste but functional enough all the same. I slipped them on and carried on driving.

Just before eight a.m. she shivered and moved in her seat, delicate hands reaching up to cup her eyes as she shifted around in her seat to face forward. The relief I felt was like a kick to the guts and I almost lost focus on the road as I watched her.

"Bella?"

For endless moments there was no response, and I feared she was still asleep. Then, soft and croaky with dehydration, "Edward?"

My knuckles on the steering wheel were white with tension, but at the sound of her voice every muscle within me relaxed as if at a hypnotist's command. I released the pent-up breath I wasn't even aware I was holding. "Bella? Can you hear me?"

She groaned and nodded, then winced at the movement. I fought the urge to grin, to laugh like a giddy schoolboy. She opened her eyes the barest crack, then slammed her lids back down immediately.

"Does the light hurt your eyes?" The Arizona sun was building up to full-force now. She didn't answer, just nodded her head minutely. I immediately pulled the borrowed sunglasses from my face and carefully slipped them over her nose, keeping a half-eye on the road as I situated them behind the shell of her ears.

She looked absurd and painfully fragile in the over-large sunglasses. "Thanks," she whispered, her voice still dry.

"There's water in the glove compartment."

She fumbled forward, popping the button and grasping the bottle. No doubt it was warm by now but she gulped the liquid down greedily, shivering and shaking as she paused, then downed some more. Neither of us said a word for a long while.

"Where are we?" she croaked.

I checked the display on the dashboard. "About an hour away from Vegas."

She snorted, but the familiar sarcastic timbre in her voice was there, albeit still throaty and pained. "I'm not really up to a game of Texas Hold 'Em right now, maybe later, hmm?"

I rolled my eyes. "Don't worry, the gambling can be saved for the next trip down. Right now we need new transportation and ID." I cursed myself once again for the stupidity of leaving all our shit in my Volvo, overly-confident that she'd reach me at the Plaza.

Bella laughed, then winced, cradling her head in her palms. "My head hurts. Do you have any pain meds?"

Regretfully I shook my head, then realised her head was still tilted down and she couldn't see me. "Sorry, no. It was all in the other car. We'll meet our rendezvous soon - he'll have a full kit with him, you'll feel better then."

She nodded, still curling her face into her palms. I drove on, glancing at her sporadically. The passenger seat was tilted far back and she reached the lever to put it upright, fumbling with the plastic. I leaned over and helping her, but the seat snapped forward unexpectedly and slammed into her back. She lurched forward, startled, emitting a small "_ow!_"

"Sorry!" I blurted, looking at her frantically, half-expecting her to pass out again. She looked at me with initial annoyance, then consternation as she saw my horrified expression. Then she started giggling, a melodic buzz of humour that involuntarily drew a smile from me. Lower, softer, I murmured, again, "Sorry."

She smirked and drank some more water. "Don't worry about it."

**~ * ~**

The scenery whipped by in a whirl of hot desert air and dry sunshine. The air con in the Porsche was disappointedly unimpressive, and eventually Bella just unwound her window halfway down and cranked open the sunroof, silently daring me to argue with her. I smiled to myself as the wind whipped a whirlwind within the cabin and didn't say a word.

Cacti cast spiky silhouettes along the freeway as we drove, and I was transfixed with watching Bella's fascination with them. We spoke very little, exchanging only functional words and brief questions on her health.

Eventually she began fiddling with the radio, skipping through various stations until she found music she liked. I was amused to see she listened to Muse, Jason Mraz and The Shins as easily as she tuned into The Cranberries and Iron & Wine. She sang along to the songs she knew softly, a gentle cadence that complemented the wind buffeting through the vehicle.

I couldn't help but chuckle when she found a station playing Deana Carter's _Strawberry Wine_. She glared at me, daring me to argue. "Problem, Edward?"

I smirked, shaking my head. "I just never pegged you as a country 'n' western fan."

She rolled her eyes, turning the volume up. "I'm not, usually, but this song is awesome. So shut your face and don't ruin it for me."

I watched her, absorbed as she unwound her window fully and ducked her head out into the slipstream, hair blowing and tangling in the breeze, her hand undulating like a dolphin's trail over the waves as she traced the wind across her skin.

I looked at her curiously, transfixed by her movements. Her eyes were closed as the gale tossed her hair back behind her like she was diving through water.

I bit my tongue a dozen times, but I had to know. My curiosity was insatiable. "What are you doing?"

She grinned, but didn't open her eyes, didn't retract into the car. "I love the wind. When I was little Charlie would drive down to La Push with the windows open and our dogs, Jacob and Sam, would stick their heads out of the window and let their tongues loll in the breeze." She giggled, and the tinkling melodic sound made my fingers twitch to touch her. "Since I was little I'd always copy them. I just love the rush of air, it makes me feel free. Like I'm daring and adventurous, diving down a cliff face or riding a roller-coaster." She blushed then and glanced at me through her lashes, shyly. "I know it sounds stupid."

I grinned at her. "So you like roller-coasters?"

She blushed prettily and nodded. "I don't know why. It would drive my friends insane - I'd badger them endlessly to come ride me with, then the second the carriage started clicking to the summit I'd always start screaming and change my mind, demanding they let me off." She giggled again, and I had to tighten my grip on the steering wheel.

She continued, her voice thoughtful now. "It sounds kind of crazy, but I always searched for that, you know, the feeling that I was living a life less ordinary? I just wanted some excitement, some validation that I was more than a standard pleb trudging through the capitalist machine. And when I'm at the top of a roller-coaster, about to scream down...it makes me feel alive."

I didn't answer her for I had no answer to give. I ached, wishing I'd met her when she was a blushing, innocent teen begging for acceptance and validation that her life was more than an accident of organic chemistry. God, how I wished that I had met her before she'd met _him_. Took her on a roller-coaster and held her hand.

Was that why she'd said yes to his proposal - her endless mission for meaning, for a life less ordinary?

Before long she drew her head back into the Porsche and a wide yawn split her jaws. She rested her head back on the seat, eyes heavy and hooded. A shadow of my earlier alarm captured me, the memory of her lying splayed and loose-limbed without life on the sheets.

I needed to keep her awake. Conversation seemed the easiest way. What to discuss?

"Tell me about Demetri."

The question escaped me, rocketing from my throat before my mental filter had time to haul it back and beat it into submission.

She looked shocked. _Shit_. Why did I have to ask that? Not only was it none of my goddamn business, but I always did my job better without the emotional connection, when I could just view the clients as packages to be delivered safe from transit. That was all she was - a package. A cute, deliciously fragrant package, but a package nonetheless.

I expected her to scowl and shut down. But she surprised me yet again, giving me a guarded look that belied the openness of her words.

"Okay. What do you want to know?"

**~ * ~**

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	8. Chapter 8

**A/N Stephenie Meyer owns all. I just own some rather fabulous new ankle boots and a packet of chili tortillas.**

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**CHAPTER EIGHT**

_**Previously (EPOV)**_

_"Tell me about Demetri."_

_The question escaped me, rocketing from my throat before my mental filter had time to haul it back and beat it into submission._

_She looked shocked. Shit. Why did I have to ask that? Not only was it none of my goddamn business, but I always did my job better without the emotional connection, when I could just view the clients as packages to be delivered safe from transit. That was all she was - a package. A cute, deliciously fragrant package, but a package nonetheless._

_I expected her to scowl and shut down. But she surprised me yet again, giving me a guarded look that belied the openness of her words. _

_"Okay. What do you want to know?"_

**~ * ~**

**BPOV**

How to explain?

It seemed wholly inadequate to say that the distance and the language barrier left me lonely and scared, thousands of miles away from home and all things familiar. That the thrill of travel and adventure had been lost in the reality of overseas travel, leaving me needy and craving human contact.

Looking back, I guess I just wanted to be someone else, someone bold - someone beyond Chief Swan's daughter who never partied or drank, who always got straight As and did the right thing. I wanted to be someone who wasn't wrapped in obvious inexperience and innocence, horribly shy and graceless. I wanted to be forward and proud, to launch myself into excitement and a life less ordinary.

I lost myself in memories, and spoke hesitantly. I never met his eyes.

"It was just before my senior year that I got the invitation, I think maybe April or May?" I smiled wryly, making it a question, remembering my shock when the guidance counsellor called me to her office and told me the news. "It was just so unexpected - it was such a prestigious scholarship, only a handful of students around the world were lucky enough to get it. I was surprised because I'd never applied, never even heard of it; I was told I'd been 'selected'."

I paused then, the last word tasting bitter on my tongue. Particularly in light of later events. Glancing at Edward I recognised his confused expression and realised more explanation was needed.

"The Volterra Scholarship," I said softly. "I'd never even heard of it. The guidance counsellor told me it was an invitations-only honour and not to be lightly turned down. A year's tuition and board fully paid for by the Academy, a chance to experience a completely different culture and life. I was terrified - I didn't even speak a word of Italian! - but I was desperate to accept it. Charlie, my dad, was scared for me to go too far away but he hid it well, knowing somehow that I needed a life beyond rainy old Forks."

I smiled sadly and looked down at my hands, wishing how I'd just stayed in the lived-in house with my dad in rainy old Forks and gone to community college like I'd planned.

Hindsight is a wonderful thing.

"I flew out in the summer before my senior year, planning to spend a couple of months in Rome, then Florence, before moving to Volterra in September. I was so excited - I think I'd romanticised the experience too much, thinking that the second I'd arrive in Europe I'd somehow 'find' myself and become a whole new person. A person I'd always wanted to be, but had been too scared to reach for."

I looked back down to my hands once more, ashamed; my motives seemed so pathetic in light of what eventually happened. I chanced a brief side-glance at Edward, expecting to see contempt and boredom, but was surprised to see compassion and a strange intensity.

He murmured gently, his green eyes dark and deep, "Go on."

I drew courage from his quiet interest and acceptance. "I was in Rome for nearly a full week before I first met Demetri. I'd done all the usual tourist spots - spent hours admiring the Colosseum, the Pantheon, the Bridge of Angels, the Arch of Constantine. I must have filled the memory chip on my camera a dozen times and emailed them all to my family and friends, enjoying their reactions more than the experiences themselves." I smiled bitterly. "They were always so impressed by my stories - of what I'd seen - that I hated to disappoint them by moaning that the reality was different, such an anticlimax, just so...lonely.

"I tried to make the best of it, tried to...connect, I guess? But crossing continental lines had done nothing to change my shyness and I never knew what to say to strangers. I was surrounded by many couples, a lot of families. The only ones that made an effort with me were guys who seemed to be only after one thing."

I grimaced at the memory, still conflicted by how easily I'd been drawn in time and time again. Thinking that they offered friendship when their intentions were poles apart. I was distantly aware of Edward's hands tightening on the steering wheel, his knuckles white.

"One morning I went to the Trevi Fountain. It was such a popular spot that it was usually crawling with tourists and far from serene, but I headed out just before dawn and for once it was blissfully quiet." I closed my eyes, summoning the memory. "When I sat on the edge and dipped my hands in the liquid the sun had only just begun to rise, making the wet marble of the sculptures sparkle. So beautiful, it was like a reminder of why I decided to travel in the first place. It was also the first time I'd been able to hear the ripple of the water over the cries and warbles of the visitors.

"I sat there for nearly an hour, just enjoying the peace. I started to feel tired from the early morning and rose, planning to grab an espresso, and that was when I fell." I rolled my eyes; Bella Swan, so goddamn predictable. "The ground was wet with the spray from the fountain and I slipped easily, expecting my face to meet the concrete."

I went quiet then, and I could see Edward shifting in my peripheries, but he stayed silent. I was grateful.

"I fell, and _he_ caught me. He murmured something to me in Italian with a knowing smile, and I just blushed and stammered out the only line of the language I'd learnt so far: _sono Americano, non parlo Italiano. Spiacente._"

_I am American, I speak no Italian. Sorry_.

I continued, staring out of the window and unwilling to meet Edward's scrutiny. "Demetri just smiled at me and switched to English with effortless charm, putting me back on my feet and then he asked me out to morning coffee."

I closed my eyes, remembering him.

_So tall and confident, ink black eyes flashing in the morning sunlight and olive skin gleaming in the spray from the fountain. He was so self-assured, each movement intentional and deliberate - so at odds with my hesitant shuffle through life. His jaw was sharply-cut and determined, his arms strong with defined tendons and muscles flexing as they lifted me back to my feet. _

_For the first time since leaving home I felt protected, safe, cared for. Thrilled. _

_The way Demetri looked at me...no one had _ever_ stared at me like that before, like something wanted. Something desired._

_His voice was accented like deep, dark chocolate. "An espresso for the beautiful lady? Please, _mia bella signora_, I must insist. Please, I beg of you, take a walk with me down past the square?" His tone was wry and teasing, his eyes fierce and hungry._

_It had made me feel powerful, daring. Bold._

_I nodded shyly, taking his offered hand as I tried to suppress the blush but felt its heat along my cheeks. From his grin he saw it too. He lifted my hand to his mouth, grazing the knuckle with soft lips and the shocking wetness of his tongue as it darted slyly onto my skin. He smiled at me, predatory and hungry. _

_In that instant, I wanted to be devoured. I was ready to be someone else, someone beyond the little Bella of Forks and Phoenix._

_"Forgive me, _mia bella_. I am Demetri. May I have the pleasure of knowing such a beautiful young lady's name?"_

_I blushed even more but somehow met his eyes, the heat of his mouth casting shuddering memories over the skin of my hand. "Isabella," I murmured. "Isabella Swan."_

"I knew he was older," I whispered, hunching my shoulders and feeling defensive now. "But I thought he was twenty-three, maybe twenty-five."

I had no idea he was actually well more than a decade beyond my estimation.

Edward spoke hesitantly, his voice strangely hoarse as if he wasn't sure that he wanted the answer. "Did you know he was...?"

"The principal of my school?" I finished dryly. In the months since I fled Italy, this reaction was far from uncommon. "No. I had no idea - it wasn't until nearly three months later when I saw him in his office at Volterra Academy that I knew the truth. He was always purposely vague about his job, and I, like the naive stupid seventeen-year-old I was, I never questioned it."

I shook my head in self-disgust, but continued.

"We spent the whole day together, just talking and meandering through Rome, and for once it was like all the dreams of travelling abroad had come true. We talked about books and philosophy, films and modern culture. At the time I felt so special, so lucky - it was the first time I'd been able to discuss my interests freely without being met with odd side-glances or blank stares. He was so knowledgeable and respectful of my opinions; it was like he'd read everything I'd read and was genuinely fascinated to hear what I thought of it."

I paused there, desperately fighting the tears welling in my eyes. Of course Demetri had been well-versed in my literary and cultural choices; that much had been evident from his..._research_. Urgh. But I pushed the thoughts aside, not wishing to skip ahead in the tale.

"Are you okay?" Edward asked. He reached out a hand hesitantly, as if he wanted to place it upon my knee, but drew it back at the last moment. I just nodded silently to him, taking a few more moments to collect myself.

"I was in Rome until the beginning of August and Demetri sought me out almost every day. He took me to breakfast, lunch and dinner, trying to pay for everything despite my protestations. He took me dancing, teaching me how to move to the music and for once I didn't feel like the clumsy fool who trampled my date's feet at Homecoming." I felt a traitor tear slip down my cheek. "It was new and...exciting."

My words dried up once again. I wasn't sure how to continue - not only was it difficult to explain myself, but it was painful to revisit the treachery Demetri had inflicted on my heart.

Just then my stomach rumbled loudly and obnoxiously, the thud of my headache greeted by the more familiar light-headedness of going too long without food.

Edward half-smiled at the sound and arched a brow at me. He drove one-handed, carelessly it seemed, but the muscular car flew forward with perfect precision. "We need to stop for food," he stated, not a question.

No more words were exchanged for the next few minutes as we listened to the steady beat of the radio, playing Foo Fighters' _Everlong_. Eventually lights signalled a gas and snack stop ahead and my stomach rumbled once more at the reminder. Smiling slightly at the sound Edward effortlessly pulled the car into park and stopped just outside the illumination of the street lamp.

"What do you want?"

I just shrugged. "I'm easy, a sandwich and chips. Maybe a Hershey bar? Whatever they have." He nodded, and started to disembark when I called out frantically, "But nothing with nuts!" Edward looked a little surprised at the outburst, and I explained, "I'm allergic."

Edward nodded and reached into the backseat, retrieving my Taser and placing it in my lap. "If anyone approaches the car, ignore them. No eye contact. If they get too friendly or try to open the door then hit the horn." He lifted my hand and guided it to the spot on the steering wheel, my hand prickling with pins and needles at the contact. "If they get too close, stick them with the Taser." He smirked then, and said, "In the chest or balls, not the belt. Okay?"

I rolled my eyes and nodded, half-chagrined at the reminder of my ineffective use of the weapon and also a little flustered by the contact of his skin.

He climbed out of the car, locking it behind him and headed towards the lit store, glancing back only once. I could see his hands flex repeatedly with tension and I wondered whether the story I told was the source.

**~ * ~**

**EPOV**

_Fuck._

_Shit._

_Goddamn it!_

I rippled with barely contained rage as I headed into the convenience store, grabbing a basket and furiously filling it haphazardly with Cheetos, packaged sandwiches and long-life snacks. I remembered her request, her little melodic voice so soft and hesitant, and plucked double handfuls of Hershey bars and tossed them in too.

That fucking asshole. I always knew Demetri was a player, Christ he'd slithered his way into society in a number of cities and bedrooms based purely on his charm and smile. He was a snake and beyond reprehensible. But to seduce an innocent seventeen-year-old - his own student! - isolated and thousands of miles from home, lonely and lost... That was truly a new low, even for Aro's spawn.

As she'd whispered each word of her story to me it took all I had to remain calm and driving, to not pull over and yank her into my arms and let loose the rage I felt. She'd looked so guilty, so hesitant, clearly so worried I'd judge her and her choices.

I scoffed at myself, ridiculing my self-righteousness. Of course she doubted me - I'd pre-judged her from before me met, dubbed her a princess and treated her with nothing but scorn despite her courage and determination. Why would she expect anything less from me?

I was thankful for the layout of the store. The left-side was virtually all-glass, giving me a clear view of Bella as she sat in the passenger seat of our car. Her head was still tilted down, her gaze fastened on her hands in her lap as it had been almost the whole way throughout her story.

I wanted to know more, to know the rest, but I didn't want to push her.

I paid for our purchases and hurried back to the car, paranoid about leaving her for too long. I spilled the sandwiches and Hershey bars into her lap, feeling a brief roar of pride at her adorable smile, and then started the engine and pulled back onto the freeway.

I decided then I would not push her anymore. If she wanted to tell me more - tell me how the story ended - I would listen. But I would not ask, I would not push.

It was her story to tell and I would wait forever until she was ready to tell it.

**~ * ~**

**So...what do you think? I was very nervous about posting this chapter, worried it might be a bit of a let-down. **

**Please let me know your thoughts and feel free to point out any holes in my explanation so far.**

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	9. Chapter 9

**A/N Stephenie Meyer owns all. I just own a box of Cheerios and not enough milk.**

**Thanks again to my lovely reviewers - the response for the last chapter was SO fantastic and more than I've gotten for any update before!!!! It totally inspired me to write this and update early. **

**PLEASE keep reviewing - I really want to try and make it to ****100**** reviews before chapter ten :)**

**CHAPTER NINE**

_**Previously (EPOV)**_

_I decided then I would not push her anymore. If she wanted to tell me more - tell me how the story ended - I would listen. But I would not ask, I would not push. _

_It was her story to tell and I would wait forever until she was ready to tell it._

**~ * ~**

We were only a couple of hours away from the Nevada border when Bella unrolled the window on her side fully, sending desert-hot wind through the car. Despite the speed we were travelling the breeze was far from refreshing in the full sun.

"What the hell are you doing? It was cooler with the AC!"

She had her head half-stuck out of the window as she spoke. "No offence, Edward, but the air is getting a little...ripe in here."

I snorted. "You're no bouquet of roses either, trust me you've _more_ than contributed to the body odour situation in this car."

At first she looked angry at my remarks, then shrugged and laughed a little, plucking at her shirt that was now stiff with dried sweat. "Yeah, I guess sprinting through Phoenix then going a day without a shower does that to you. When can we stop? I feel seriously gross right now."

I shook my head, wanting to make a sarcastic remark about her priorities, but I bit it back. In all honesty I'd been torturing myself with thoughts of a cool shower for the last ten miles.

"Once we swap cars in Nevada I'll find us another motel. We can get a couple of hours sleep and clean up. Okay?"

Bella grinned at me. "Thanks, Edward."

I suddenly felt bad for my earlier scorn, wondering how something so basic as the promise of a shower could elicit such gratitude. It just reminded me of all she'd been through. Seeking to change the topic, I asked, "How's your head?"

Out of the corner of my eye I could see her run her fingers over the purple lump on her forehead, wincing slightly. "Not too bad. Still have a killer headache but the aspirin helps some." She smiled, and added, "And you'll be pleased to know I'm not feeling sick anymore."

"Thank fuck for that," I murmured. The recycled air in the car was already bad enough from our marathon run in the blazing heat.

I wanted her to carry on telling me about Demetri, but I didn't want to bring it up. She looked relaxed now, but I could see by the tension around her jaw and eyes that it was an act and that, for now, she was done talking about her past. I scrambled to find something innocuous to discuss, but small talk had never really been one of my more regularly-exercised skill.

Bella beat me to it and half-turned in her seat to face me. "So, distract me already. We've had an hour of Bella 101, so tell me something about yourself."

"Like what?"

"Anything! Like, do you have a wife, a girlfriend?" She paused, and seemed to appraise my hair with new eyes and asked tentatively, "Boyfriend?"

I snorted and shook my head. "I'm not gay, Bella."

She shrugged, leaning back into her seat, a small smile playing at the edge of her lips. "It's the hair. That colour can't be natural - do you dye it?"

"No! I do not dye my hair."

"Hmm, sounds a little defensive to me. It's okay to be a little metro, Edward."

"Seriously, Bella, can you really see me in a salon?"

She giggled. "I guess not. Anyway, you're stalling - answer the question."

"No wife or girlfriend, no one special." I sighed, not particularly wanting to go into detail about the occasional one-night stands I'd indulged in over the years. "This lifestyle - it's not made for serious relationships, it's too dangerous to have a weak spot like that. Anyone I had a connection with would be forever in the firing line."

She looked puzzled, and asked, "But Jasper's married, right?"

I snapped my head to her, fuming. "What?! Jasper told you he was married?"

She nodded, looking confused. "Yeah. Why, what's wrong with that? Not everyone who works for the Cullen Group has to be an asshole twenty-four-seven, you know."

"It's against the rules," I said through gritted teeth. "We're not supposed to share personal information with clients, it's too dangerous - for everyone concerned."

"Well, apparently you're the only one following them because Emmett told me he was married, too."

She sounded far too smug and my hands tightened on the steering wheel. "That's still not as bad as Jasper. Emmett's married to another operative." Then I snapped my jaw shut, cursing silently for sharing that. Shaking my head I said, "What is it about you that seems to make everyone so intent on breaking the rules?"

Rather than looking irritated as I would have predicted, she just smiled with a secret mystery and looked out the window. "Just lucky, I guess," she murmured. This girl never did anything I expected. "So how come it's okay for Jasper to be married?"

"The situation with his wife is...different." I had a brief flash of Rosalie: a tempest of blonde hair and icy blue eyes flashing with steel and gun oil. When it came to Rose the only people in need of protection were the ones who pissed her off.

"Does she work for the Cullen Group too, like Emmett's wife?"

"No."_ Alice _is_ a Cullen. She would be in danger whether she was married to Jasper or not, just because of who her father and brother are. _I struggled to explain without revealing too much. "Her background...it made her more knowledgeable about...what she was getting into. And there were already...issues anyway, so the marriage didn't make much of a difference."

She paused, then said, "Well that was delightfully cryptic. You do realise I have no idea what you're talking about?"

I smirked. "Mission accomplished then. I told you, no personal information." I desperately clung to the mantra. After all, it had been instigated for a reason.

She rolled her eyes like I was refusing to share toys at playtime and absently curled a strand of her chocolate hair around her finger. "So...if you can't tell me personal information then what _can_ you tell me then? I mean, I doubt it's going to compromise 'national security' or whatever if you tell me which Harry Potter movie was your favourite."

I snorted at that. "I've never seen a Harry Potter movie."

She stared at me, shocked. "_You've never seen a Harry Potter movie?_ Honestly, Edward, that's like...blasphemy against modern culture or something. Jeez, I've been on the run for months and even _I_ still found the time to make it to a movie theatre."

_Are you fucking kidding me? Taking time out while hiding from a ruthless crime syndicate to see a goddamn kid's film!_ Without thinking, I snapped,"Glad to see you've got your priorities in order, princess."

As soon as the words left my mouth the atmosphere in the car flipped from amused teasing to furious. Ah, angry kitten was back.

She scowled. "Bite me, Edward, I am allowed a few indulgences. You know, it's not easy having to lie to everyone you meet and never being able to make friends, or make any sort of connection with anyone at all."

I flinched at that, clenching my jaw. Of course I knew that, possibly better than she did. She'd only had to do this for eight months; I'd been doing it for nearly seven years.

This was _exactly_ why no personal information was shared with clients, why no connections were formed. It was too dangerous. This conversation was too dangerous. I didn't want to know which goddamn Harry Potter movie was her favourite.

She glared over at me, but must have seen something in my face because her expression softened. I kept my gaze on the road, not wanting to look at those depthless doe eyes that saw too much.

"Maybe you do know something about that," she murmured.

I didn't answer. I just kept driving.

**~ * ~**

**JPOV**

I slid of a knob of butter with a splash of oil into the pan and tilted it expertly, coating the cast iron base. Still listening for Alice upstairs I lightly whisked the eggs and poured them into the pan, tossing in a handful of sliced olives and dill pickles with a twist of salt and pepper. The peanut butter was already out and ready on the counter.

I loved that my wife was pregnant, that our family was growing. But her taste in food at the moment made me shudder.

Alice stomped down the stairs in true Godzilla fashion, sending shivers through the glasses of orange juice beside me. It still shocked me that a woman so tiny could carry so much weight on her belly; some days I could swear her side profile looked like an egg with legs.

I turned the burner off and poured Alice's scrambled egg concoction onto a plate set at at the breakfast bar, adding a spoonful of peanut butter on the side with a carefully concealed grimace. "Morning, beautiful," I murmured, kissing her cheek and automatically running my hand over her swollen abdomen.

She smiled back at me, her earlier tension melting, and kissed me back with a smile. The smile widened when she saw her breakfast set out before her. "Jasper, this is why I love you. You even remembered the peanut butter!"

She launched herself into the bizarre egg mixture with glee, occasionally letting loose a heavy-lidded groan of pleasure that went straight to my groin as she devoured the plateful. My own breakfast was completely forgotten as I was lost in the sensual experience of my wife ravaging the food like a nutrition-deprived hyena.

"Mmm, thank you so much, Jazz," she said, crossing the knife and fork neatly on her plate once she was done. I half-expected her to lick the plate - then maybe lick the jar of olives. "That was delicious." She leaned over the breakfast bar and kissed me chastely, tasting of butter and salt and peanuts.

"Do you have work today, darlin'?"

She nodded, gulping on her orange juice. "Just a morning shift. I've transferred most of my patients, but there's still a few things to settle before I take my maternity leave. Are you working today?"

I nodded. "Some case files to update. And, um..." I trailed off, not sure how to bring up my continuing monitoring of the Swan case. I knew Alice was beyond irritated by the situation and the possibility of Bella living with us wasn't going to help things.

Her eyes narrowed. "Spit it out, Whitlock."

I swallowed reflexively. "It's about Bella."

She rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Of course. When is it not about Bella?"

I clenched my jaw but ignored that. "Edward's bringing her to Seattle, they're just outside of Nevada and should be here by tomorrow evening." I paused. "Your dad was planning to have her stay here."

Steely eyes flashed and her fingers clenched so hard I expected the counter to splinter before her. "_Here?_" she echoed in a hiss. "Are you insane? You seriously plan to bring the Volturi girl to our house? What about me - what about the baby? It's hardly safe - for any of us!"

I immediately regretting not taking Carlisle up on his offer to break the news to his tempestuous daughter. "I know how you feel, darlin', but I promise you it will be safe." I took her hands in mine, willing her to meet my gaze. "We're out of options with this one. We've tried everything - hiding her with one guard, with a dozen, with none - they always find her. This will be the last place they look for her and, even if they do, we have enough security that she'll be safe here." I kissed her knuckles and willed her to understand. "That _you'll_ be safe here, you and our little munchkin."

She didn't answer, averting her eyes from me, but I knew she her resolve was weakening. Especially when her laser eyes softened as I let slip the nickname for our baby.

I captured her with my gaze, pouring all the sincerity and love and doubt and worry into her that I could, reassuring her that I loved her and she was my world. "We don't know what else to do. All our usual plans, strategies - they just don't work with her. A show of force is all we have left."

She looked mollified but still a little pissed. She absentmindedly stroked circles over my thumb as she mused, her brow creased in thought. When she spoke her voice was hesitant. "How is it that they find her every time? Have you considered..." She glanced up at me, cautious of my reaction, and spoke so soft it was almost a whisper. "Is there a leak?"

My mouth went dry. Her intuitiveness was far too accurate and mirrored recent conversations between myself and Carlisle. In all honesty it was the only explanation that made sense - the Volturi were wide-spread and insidious, but every time we'd moved Bella she'd been located far too easily, far too quickly. Luck and resources could not explain it - Alice was right, they must have a source within the Cullen Group.

I hedged, answering, "Maybe." We'd scoured the offices and homes of all our operative three times in the last four months, replacing cell phones on a weekly basis. We'd found nothing, which was actually more worrying than finding _something_ because if there was a leak then it was high-placed. It was someone we trusted.

Alice eyed me speculatively. "Do I need to watch what I say on the phone?" She phrased the question delicately, having grown-up amidst subterfuge and double-speak.

I knew what she was really asking: _could they be listening right now?_

I gave her my honest answer. "Possibly."

She just nodded, not freaked out or alarmed. Ever the pragmatist. "Well if your guest will be here by tomorrow then I have little time to prepare. I'll make up the southern blue room for her. Will that be okay?" It didn't escape my notice that she was one step away from talking in code, the habits of her childhood re-emerging.

I gripped her hand more tightly and tucked her hair behind her ear. "That would be great, Alice. Thank you."

She rolled her eyes at me and tugged my hair with a wry smile. "You're welcome. But don't think this show of contrition and my olive omelette excuses you from the major asskicking you're owed for last night, okay?"

I grinned at her, my angel. "Okay."

She laughed and pushed me towards the dirty dishes, her hand tucked around her stomach as she ventured back up the stairs.

**~ * ~**

**So...who wants to which Harry Potter movie was Bella's favourite? And who thinks it's a terrible idea to hide Bella at Chez Cullen?**

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	10. Chapter 10

**A/N Stephenie Meyer owns all. I just own a wasps' nest outside my window whose inhabitants keep invading my room to make friends. How lucky am I?**

**Thanks again to my lovely reviewers - you guys are fantastic and pushed me past 100 reviews!!!! **

**Please keep giving me feedback - I love hearing what you think of the story and I ALWAYS reply to reviews.**

**CHAPTER TEN**

_**Previously (EPOV)**_

_She glared over at me, but must have seen something in my face because her expression softened. I kept my gaze on the road, not wanting to look at those depthless doe eyes that saw too much. _

_"Maybe you do know something about that," she murmured._

_I didn't answer. I just kept driving._

**~ * ~**

**BPOV**

Edward ignored me, and I did my best to ignore him.

It was difficult though, almost impossible. Even when I closed my eyes and turned towards the window, feigning sleep, his presence was like a prickling cloud of energy and restless sexual tension to my left. He was an enigma, a puzzle - a mesh of strength and vulnerability and confusion.

Of course, it didn't help that he was so compelling to look at. Aesthetic perfection coated in a hardened and cynical glaze - his hair, his eyes, his cheekbones, all carved in masculine beauty. The glower he habitually wore could not take away from it, in fact the edge only caused to push his attraction into something edgy and tantalisingly dangerous.

I barely knew him, yet I _burned_ for him.

My pretense at sleep had eventually become a reality and I slumbered deeply. I was confused when I awoke to darkness and realised the sun had set while I dreamed of being chased down dark streets and the bone-jarring thud of car crashes.

How long had we been driving?

The disorientation of my headache and the long sleep left me unsure, but it must have been well more than a full day since Edward plucked me from those dark streets and tucked me beneath his shattered wing.

Edward's behaviour towards me from the moment he'd saved me in Phoenix was puzzling and contradictory. One moment he would glare at me, each remark dripping sarcasm and scorn, making me flinch as he sought to pierce my armour. Then he would rip the ground away and display concern and a grudging respect, his mossy green eyes regarding me like something precious and treasured.

The latter was always done so briefly and instantly replaced with a scowl that I sometimes wondered if I was imagining the whole thing. A delayed side-effect of the concussion, perhaps? Hmm.

It had long been clear to me that Edward already pre-judged me as an opportunistic and morally-inhibited gold-digger, a coward who ran only because she realised she was in over her head. A part of me could not blame him for this. His only impression of me must have come from a black and white case file and, at first glance, my tale appeared to be beyond reasonable excuse. Beyond redemption.

I scoffed silently, mocking my own moral ambivalence. _Who was I kidding?_ Not even myself. I could plead naivete and loneliness and childish ignorance, but my past will _always_ be beyond reasonable excuse.

My only saving grace is that I fled before I married Demetri. That, and the fact that I took with me enough Volturi secrets to bring their dark organisation down to burning ruins. Admittedly my main motivation when stealing their records and destroying their files had been insurance, the instinct to protect myself in case Demetri came after me and wouldn't let me go. I wish my motivations had been more noble, but I could never deny that self-preservation had always been the devil on my shoulder that silently devoured my resolve.

Yet I could have just turned the files and my testimony over to the authorities and fled. Hearsay was more tentative, true, but even so in light of the evidence it wouldn't be ignored. None of it mattered though, for ethical debate was rendered speechless when I found out the horrifying truth behind the family I'd nearly joined. I knew I had to do everything I could to end it and my testimony would be the lynchpin that would dismantle their insidious and far-reaching hold.

Even if doing so ended me. It was a small price to pay, all things considered.

My shadowy musings were interrupted as a dry cough tore through me, bringing my attention back to my burning throat and the realisation that I hadn't drunk anything all day. Each cough made my head spin sickly and thud mercilessly.

Edward glanced at me, jade cat eyes fierce and piercing, and reached across my lap to pop the glove compartment. The long, lean muscles in his forearm flexed in a bewitching pattern as he moved and pulled a water bottle out before handing it to me, casting side-glances as I gulped the liquid down.

Yet he didn't ask if I was okay and his face betrayed no concern, even if his actions did.

I wanted him to care. For as dark and caustic as he sometimes was, I craved his protection, his comfort. His touch. I had nothing else to cling to and I cursed Edward silently for my dependancy.

I couldn't make Edward Cullen out.

It infuriated me and thrilled me simultaneously.

At times Edward seemed to understand me, to be closer to me than anyone before him...closer even than Demetri. For as much as I hated my former fiance I could not deny that he knew me better than I knew myself. After all, that was his favourite tactic when it came to controlling me. To subduing me, and pushing aside my trepidations to make me scream and plead for him.

And I had screamed and surrendered to him; the memory made me shift uncomfortably and coloured my cheeks with shame. How to explain that to my hard-eyed bronze-haired protector, how to make him understand?

Impossible.

After all, the story I had told Edward was but a diluted reflection of reality.

Demetri lit a flame within me that burned and consumed without mercy or compassion, left me bereft and crawling towards the comfort he offered. I can sit and simper and blush, claim that he preyed on my isolation, my innocence - but the truth is I craved it. I craved his attention.

I longed to be consumed and desired and possessed. My self-worth was but a flicker of a shadow and I wanted solar brightness to take me and remake me, to remove my options and show me a new way.

It was only in retrospect I realised how neatly the Volturi cut me off from my family, from my peers, from everything - leaving me nothing else to cling to but them. And yet even that knowledge is tainted for it was discovered early on, and I still stayed there.

Stayed in Demetri's bedroom, stayed as his plaything.

I played the part of the child-mistress until my overwhelming self-preservation and fear forced me to flee into the night, convinced that any moment I'd see the blazing eyes of my fiance over the barrel of a gun. Nothing I could ever do would change the fact that I had catered to his fantasies, surrendered myself to his twisted desires. Even though in later months I would hate myself each time I went to him, part of me reveled in his touch and I longed for the moment my joy would explode into curdling screams that echoed in the night.

If I had not been scared for my life, would I have stayed? Became one of them?

Probably not, but...perhaps. The possibility gnawed at me relentlessly.

_How did I fall for it?_

Think of it no more.

The dry desert heat baked us and I unwound the window, gulping at the tepid air that poured through. Tears burned in the corners of my eyes but I turned myself to the window and stubbornly refused to let them fall, refused to let them be seen by _him_. Edward Cullen, of the self-righteousness and physical perfection. I would not stand to see him judge me.

His snide comments, his cavalier attitude and disregard of my fear and pain when he dragged he through the back alleys of Phoenix. Calling me '_princess_' as if I was some spoiled creature who favoured material worth - which could not be further from the truth! How dare he.

He knew nothing about me.

As my mind ran through the events of the past twenty-four hours - of the past two years - self-pity and shame started to give way to anger. I sat there and seethed, a hot-bed of anger of frustrated fury. _He_ questioned _me_ over my past but refused to give the slightest hint of his own life - for fuck's sake, how damaging could it be to his future spyboy-rep to tell me which fucking Harry Potter film he liked?

_Ha! _Not that he's even seen Harry Potter - he probably just spends his spare times brooding in a dark room and practising knife tricks.

_Conclusion?_ He's an asshole.

I fumed silently, bristling in the passenger seat with crossed arms and furrowed brow as I deliberately uncurled and relaxed each one of my stressed fingers and toes.

Then, abruptly as it had arrived, my anger dissipated as I remembered the look in Edward's eyes when I'd callously exclaimed that he could never understand what it meant to live a life of deceit, to have to lie to everyone to survive. He had been a lost boy in that moment, his strength consumed by the acute pain my words sparked.

He knew. Edward knew what is was to be lost, to always be a liar. To never be honest. To slide between the confines of society and to leech human contact like a vampire without ever returning oneself.

The memory of his face echoed through me, a shock to my senses. I'd asked him - challenged him - to know what it was like to sneak through life as a spook, unable to share truth with anyone.

Why was Edward so isolated? I wanted to enfold him in my arms and ask him, but I knew he would never allow it.

**~ * ~**

**EPOV**

The silence was deafening.

Ever since I'd channeled my inner asshole and shot down Bella's innocent attempt to make conversation she'd not said a word. The desert scenery passed in a blaze of sun and sand and cacti, the heated air invading the car despite the air con. But the scents of the world outside did nothing to compare to the delicate flowery smell of Bella, suggesting a hint of strawberry, youth and innocence.

Even the pungent consequences of our absence from hygiene couldn't take away from that. I wanted to pull the car over in a screech of rubber and fire, to nestle into the crook of her neck and lick her collarbone. To bury myself into the hollow of her ivory throat and delicate perfume until she clenched and moaned my name. Her scent would be more concentrated there...

For the fifty-eighth time this journey I tightened my knuckles on the steering wheel until they almost glowed white. My restraint was hanging on a knife's edge and I was honestly lost, clinging desperately to the notion that she was a client and no good would come of any emotional entanglements. It could only ever cause pain, to us both.

Bella was curled into a ball on the passenger seat, hands tucked under her chin and tangled mahogany curls falling over her shoulders and knees in a glistening spill. Soft, pink lips pouted in sleep, occasionally murmuring random words and incoherencies which made me smile.

I'd almost forgot how she whispered her thoughts while she slept. The raw beauty of her exposed desires, inclinations and memories.

Most of her ramblings were incoherent or meaningless, but now and again Bella's brow would wrinkle and she'd whisper '_no_' and _'Demetri_' in tortured tones, sometimes adding other unfamiliar names that I had no wish to discern.

The only time in the drive towards Nevada that my muscles relaxed was when Bella whispered _my_ name, '_Edward_'. A siren's throaty breath of longing and desire, thick with promise and confusion and the hint of revealed blushing innocence. It took every inch of resolve to resist pulling onto the side of the freeway and lifting her fragile slender body into my lap and drowning myself in the sensation of her flesh, her touch.

_Fuck!_

Bella slept for an eternity. Eventually she awoke with a gasping start, as abruptly as a woman thrust into ice water, shocked and shaking. She never once met my gaze and instead unwound the window, half-pouring out of it as she inhaled dry heat and wind.

I bit back the comment about the air con and instead watched her out of the corner of my eye. I burned to know what Bella had been dreaming of, but I knew that she'd turn her kittenish fury upon me if I dared to ask.

I wanted to see her face desperately, but the thick tangled cloud of brown curls obscured her completely. The quiet choke of her breath made me wonder if she was crying. I felt ill at the thought and wanted once more to hold her, to comfort her.

I glanced at her as I drove, one hand carelessly on the steering wheel while I effortlessly navigated the poorly-lit freeway. At one point she coughed, dry and tortured, and I reached to pass her a water. As my arm passed her Bella's body heat scorched me more thoroughly than anything the desert sun could offer.

_Purge me. Save me._

Eventually Bella spoke, her voice a little husky and dry as raw whisky over ice. All I could feel was cool velvet water breaking over sun-scorched skin.

"What time is it?" she whispered.

I glanced at my wrist. "Just after nine."

Her eyebrows lifted a little in surprise. I assumed she was shocked as to how long she'd slept. "How far are we from the border?"

I glanced at the speedometer and the passing road signs, making the calculations quickly. "Maybe an hour. A little less if we keep over the speed limit."

Bella frowned in disapproval at that, and I barely restrained my laughter. After all she'd been through - after all _we'd_ been through - she was still bothered by the thought of speeding. Her voice was hesitant as she asked, "You're not worried about the car? I mean, it is stolen and it's pretty flashy. Surely the cops will notice it."

I shrugged, uncomfortably reminded of my slight misjudgment with the canary yellow 911 Turbo. "You're not wrong, but the Porsche is fast and that is our main priority right now. We need to get to safety, get as far away from Phoenix as possible before the Volturi realise they went the wrong way. As for the cops..." I shrugged, unconcerned. "The Group has a lot of connections, one of which resulted in a variety of IDs I carry around with me. It will be more than enough to get the state police off our backs if we are pulled over."

None of the IDs I carried would live up to long-term scrutiny, but they were all convincing enough to allow a short-term relief. Carlisle had ensured that his contacts were widespread enough that if he did have to flee we wouldn't be too far from a safe harbour. Well, a safe_ish_ harbour at least.

"Who's meeting us at the border?"

"I don't know," I answered honestly. "I'm guessing Paul or Jarred - they're our usual contacts in this area. They'll have food and fresh clothing for us too."

At the mention of the last Bella blushed as her stomach let out a particularly loud gurgle, shockingly loud in the confines of the car. I couldn't help but laugh at her expression of mortification.

Bella clutched her abdomen and shot me an annoyed look. "Well, what do you expect, Edward? I've barely eaten in twenty-four hours - I need some goddamn food!"

I snorted again. "Look in the glove compartment, there's some food in there. It's not much I'm afraid, just what the motel vending machine had to offer." She nodded and dove in, making me instantly feel bad for not offering it earlier. For not offering better. I should have known she'd need nutrition by now.

She peeled the plastic from the granola bar and munched contentedly, the soft moan of gratification from her lips shooting straight down my spine and curling my toes. _Fuck_. The white knuckles on her steering wheel made an instant reappearance.

My mouth pre-empted my brain and blurted out, "Can I ask you something?"

Bella took another bite of the Hershey bar she'd just unwrapped, and eyed me suspiciously. I thought she'd tell me to go to hell. But instead she just said, "Okay."

I swallowed. This was so inappropriate, there was no way I could ask - no way it was any of my business. In fact, it was way beyond inappropriate - Emmett and Jasper would both kick my ass for even thinking the question, let alone asking it. It was none of my goddamn business. I wasn't a misogynist, I didn't judge this way, but...for some reason I just _had_ to ask.

I had to know.

My voice was raw and ragged, hot sand over my throat. "When you met Demetri, that first time in Rome...?"

I trailed off. Bella's soft voice brought me back as she murmured, "Yes?"

"Were you a virgin?"

I waited for the slap, for her melodic voice to tell me to go to hell.

But instead, almost a whisper, I heard her.

"Yes. Demetri was my first, my only. He made me what I am." She swallowed, softly, a wet flex of muscle against flesh. "I was a virgin."

**~ * ~**

**So...thoughts, ideas? Reviewers get to be carried around by Edward and fed grapes. Seriously. Would I lie?**

**Question**** - who from the Cullen Group do you think should meet Bella and Edward at the Nevada border?**

**Please review - I'm worried this chapter is too introspective and maybe a little boring, so let me know. If you find it's getting dull don't be afraid to chime in and I'll up the action ante next time.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N Stephenie Meyer owns all. I just own a massive sense of literary insecurity.**

**To my reviewers - especially those who chime in each chapter - love you guys. Makes me want to continue writing this story.**

**Some people have mentioned the 'summary' is often a little different than the previous chapter - so sue me. I try to convey the message, not necessary the verbatim text :p**

**CHAPTER ELEVEN**

_**Previously (EPOV)**_

_This was so inappropriate, there was no way I could ask - no way it was any of my business. In fact, it was way beyond inappropriate - Emmett and Jasper would both kick my ass for even thinking the question_

_But I had to know. "When you met Demetri, that first time in Rome...?"_

_I trailed off. Bella's soft voice brought me back as she murmured, "Yes?"_

_I was going to hell. "Were you a virgin?"_

_I waited for the slap, but instead, almost a whisper, I heard her. "Yes." Her voice was butter and syrup, but hesitant and regretful. "Demetri was my first, my only. He made me what I am." She swallowed, softly, a wet flex of muscle against flesh. "I was a virgin."_

**~ * ~**

**BPOV**

Why the hell did he ask me that?

More importantly, why the _hell_ did I answer?

I leaned back into the clammy leather seats of the stolen car, my mind flitting back over the events since I fled the bar. Fled Phoenix.

When Edward had dragged me into that alley and I'd attempted my pathetic Taser defence I honestly thought I was dead... But, instead, he'd turned out to be my somewhat caustic saviour and had dragged my flailing near-corpse through the Arizona heat away from the enemy to safety.

Well. Huh. Safety was always a relative concept me with - fleeting and never to be relied upon. But for now, I was safe. I think.

With Edward, I felt safe. Even when I'd heard their footfall thudding behind us in the labyrinthine alleyways, I'd trusted that he'd get us out of this though I barely knew him.

My head throbbed mercilessly, despite the painkillers Edward had handed me earlier. I was familiar enough with physical injury to be confident that this wasn't a sign of something more dire, but even so the pain was the closest to a migraine I'd ever experienced.

Plus, I was starving. Seriously hungry! My stomach had to be gnawing on itself by now - I mean, a fucking granola bar? Are you kidding me?? I hadn't eaten properly for nearly forty-eight hours and if this went on any longer I'd be trying to eat the bronze-haired asshole of a sex god next to me.

I popped the glove compartment again, finding nothing but a Hershey bar and a packet of Cheetos. I grimaced, but rationalised that beggars can't be choosers and munched on the snacks half-heartedly. Ick.

I offered the packet to Edward. He glanced over, grimaced slightly, but took a handful with a grunt with I was to presume equated to a 'thank you'.

I was immediately pissed. Even though it was his dollar and hand that had bought the processed crap.

"If you didn't want this shit then why did you bother buying it?" I snapped.

He exhaled, thick with exasperation, but didn't look at me. He kept his eyes on the winding freeway unfolding before us. "It was a vending machine. We're not in Italy now, princess. It's processed cheese products or nothing."

Ah, so we're back to hostile angry Edward. Christ, this man has more personalities than happy hour at the asylum.

Jackass.

I swallowed my sarcastic retort - which, incidentally, were mainly based upon his completely inappropriate foray into my personal life earlier - and instead put in my civil tongue. "So how far to Nevada?"

"Are you going to ask me that every two miles?"

"If you prefer I'll start singing the 'are we nearly there yet?' chant, but for now I'll be happy with a half-way civil response to a perfectly polite question."

He just grunted. Fucking prick. Then he grudgingly said, "About half an hour. They'll have some food for us there." He smirked then. "Don't expect fucking mushroom ravioli but it'll be an improvement on the granola bars. They taste like fucking cardboard."

I silently agreed and settled back in my seat. "I'd be happy with McDonald's castaways right now."

**~ * ~**

**EPOV**

She was driving me insane.

The fucked-up air con in this admittedly flashy but undeniably impractical sports car did nothing but recycle her delicate freesia and strawberry scent until I wanted to pull over in a screech of hot rubber and pound the hood into a dented mass of metal...

...or pound her until she screamed my name into the dry desert air and collapsed bonelessly into the sand.

Fuck.

_Get a grip, Cullen._

It had been quiet for long enough that her voice startled me. "I was wondering..." she paused, seemingly hesitant over how the question would be received. Given my bipolar behaviour I wasn't entirely surprised by her reticence.

I sighed, resisting the urge to clench my jaw. "Ask me whatever you like, Bella. I've pried into your private life too much for you to be shy now."

She gave a shy half-smile at that, but kept her eyes on her twisting fingers placed in her lap. "How long have you been with the Cullen Group?"

"Awhile," I said, cautiously, worried this conversation would venture into dangerous territory.

"And you know about Demetri?" She phrased it as a question, but it was clearly a statement.

"Yes."

She swallowed, a soft and nervous sound. A few moments more of silence, then, "What...exactly...do you know about him?"

It was a complex question, a dangerous question. But in light of how forthcoming she had been it would be unfair for me to scoff and deny her equal disclosure now. I decided to offer to her what I could.

"Demetri Neri Volturi," I recited, reciting the memorised details of his file. "Born in Tuscany to Aro and Sulpucia Matilde Volturi. He first hit the _polizia di stato_'s radar when he was fifteen after three state witnesses were killed by a sniper just outside Milan. A couple of people reported that a black-haired youth had fled the building opposite with a heavy briefcase, but the evidence was too circumstantial for a prosecution. Plus," I said, my voice thick with disgust, "the witnesses all backed down within three weeks of the incident. I'm sure you can guess why."

I glanced over at Bella. She was a little pale, but seemed calm. "Go on," she murmured.

"The _polizia_ were suspicious of Demetri - particularly with his father's connections - but never managed to keep him in prison for more than forty-eight hours. Over the years he was linked to several other crimes - murders, assaults, money laundering, many smuggling incidents both in the EU and to the US."

I decided to spare her the details. One of the victims linked to Demetri was only twelve years' old and had been unfortunate enough to see his father being beaten to death by one of Aro's henchmen. He'd only been identified by dental records.

I continued. "When Demetri was elected president of the Volterra Academy there was nothing of substance to oppose the appointment, even though several elements in the government were very unhappy with the board's decision. But the academy is a private institution and has little to no state intervention, not to mention that the Volturi have always been free with their bribe money. The _polizia_ watched him and his father closely, but their PR front was more than strong enough to beat the judicial system.

"You probably know this already - I'm sure the FBI told you as much when they debriefed you. The US state department - and Interpol - are certain that Volterra Academy is one of the Volturi's many money laundering schemes. It's genius, really. They offer more than enough scholarships to the international community to be beyond suspicion, while the 'donations' roll in and are apparently spent on furthering education."

She interrupted me then, her voice soft, continuing the story. She stared out of the window and her features were hidden by the thick matted curtain of her hair. "At any one time there are only a handful of students at the Academy who knew the truth, and they are all children of the organisation. They're taught from an early age to keep dangerous knowledge 'in the family'." She smiled bitterly. "They were all very convincing. Most of the students there were too overwhelmed to question the oddities - the language barrier, the honour of being chosen for the scholarship. No one questioned it. No one questioned anything."

I couldn't help myself; I had to know. "Did you?"

"No," she said honestly. "Or, at least I didn't at first. After Stefan everything was different and that was when I began to realise that things were not what they seemed."

I frowned at the unfamiliar name. "Stefan?"

She flinched a little, her shoulders rounded, but I couldn't make her expression as she still had her face turned to the window. "He was just a boy, a kid really. His name was Stefan Russo and he worked in the gardens at Volterra. He told me his family was from Milan originally but moved to Volterra before he was born."

She fell silent, a small sad smile on her face. I glanced at her as I took the next exit, wondering if she was waiting for me to speak or if she was simply collecting her thoughts.

Just then, she continued. "I met him after I moved into Demetri's house." She paused then, looking angry and a little guilty. "The how and why is a story for another day. Anyway, Stefan tended our front gardens and that is how I met him, an impetuous and flirty boy who wanted to practice his English on the newest imports." Her lips curled slightly as she spoke, her voice fond but sorrowful.

"He amused me. Ever since I'd moved in with Demetri everything seemed so serious, so measured. I'd hardly been flush with companions beforehand, but I was decidedly alone once I chose to live with him. The other students at Volterra simply avoided me - no one was ever rude, or insulting, but it was like everyone was suddenly afraid to even look at me." She laughed then, low and cynical. "Of course, when I learned the truth their reactions made perfect sense.

"Regardless, Stefan was the only person who spoke to me like I was a normal girl. Like I wasn't a live grenade that needed a wide blast zone. He teased me and flirted - always harmless, but entertaining - and helped me practice my Italian just as I spoke English to him so he would become more fluent.

"He was my friend."

She swallowed audibly and I could see the tears glimmering in her eyes. I could almost see Bella then - so young and so lost, surrounded by people who knew the truth about her fiance and the consequences of upsetting his young wife-to-be. It must have been so freeing to behave like a teenager for a while, to pretend that nothing else was out there and no one was watching.

But it was clear from her tone, from her countenance, that the story didn't end well. Somehow I knew this lively Italian kid was no longer with us.

"What happened to him?" My voice was so low it was almost a whisper. I wondered if she even heard me.

"He tried to kiss me one day," she whispered, shaking her head. "It was so stupid - we were joking around and he was being dramatic. Stefan was reciting some of Petruchio's lines from _The Taming of The Shrew_ for his high school play and I was playing Katherina; he got carried away, dipping me and kissing me on the lips.

"I laughed and pushed him away, scolding him with my words but it was clear to any observer that I was amused." She scrunched her eyes and looked away. "I had no idea Demetri was there, watching."

Bella's hands trembled almost imperceptibly. She started to shred the paper napkin gripped in her palms. "After I pushed Stefan away he apologised profusely. At first I thought it was simply that he'd been carried away by the moment and the script, but he said that wasn't it.

"He gripped my shoulders, and said '_You are too beautiful and too innocent to be drawn into this nest of vipers with your eyes sewn shut_.'

"I never had a chance to ask him what he meant. At that moment I realised Demetri had been watching us all along, gripping the patio doors with enough force to shatter the glass.

"Stefan went white," she said, so softly, her voice and eyes brimming with tears. "He just stared at Demetri in abject terror. I was so puzzled at first, so confused at to why he could be so scared... Up until then Demetri had always been kind, even-tempered, so fair - I never dreamed he had an angry bone in his body. But when I saw his eyes, saw the unbridled rage - saw my fiance who I thought I knew now looking like a stranger.

"It was as if I'd never seen him before," Bella half-sobbed, her voice thick. "I honestly thought Demetri would kill me then, fly across the counter and wring my neck until I lay broken on the floor. But he never even said a word to me, to either of us; he just turned his black gaze upon Stefan until the poor boy ran out of the doors and into the night, as pale as if he'd seen a ghost.

"Demetri glared at me then and I was so scared. He ordered me to bed, to speak of this no more. Compared to the dark fury in his face his tone was eerily even and controlled." Bella tugged on her hair and made a sound of pure frustration. "A year before if a man - if _anyone_ - had attempted to issue me such an order I would have laughed in their face and left immediately. I would have scoffed at anyone's pretensions that _I_ could be dictated to.

"But...I was scared and had nowhere to go." Bella was back to the weeping timid kitten, her head cast down to her lap. I wanted to hold her and stoke her hair, tell her I understood. "So I went to bed. I went to bed and I didn't say a word."

I was almost sure of the answer but I asked anyway, "What happened to Stefan?" This was no longer about my curiosity - this was about drawing the poison from her wound.

"I never saw him again," she whispered. "When Demetri was elsewhere I asked some of the staff if they knew where Stefan was. They looked scared, answering only that he'd been transferred and wouldn't be back. No one knew where he'd gone, only that he'd quit and wouldn't be back. The look on their faces made me stop asking, but...I still wondered.

"It was three days later when I heard a woman screaming and cursing in Italian on our front lawn. She was hysterical, sobbing and full of rage and grief. Her passion was terrifying but so impressive - I almost envied her, her bravery, that she didn't care who heard her or the consequences. It made me feel so weak, so useless - I couldn't even ask a solid question as to where my friend had disappeared to.

"I could barely make out three words of every ten she yelled but I heard enough to know she was asking after her son, her baby Stefan, demanding to know what happened to him."

Bella let out another soul-breaking sob then, curling in upon herself and clutching the half-torn napkin to her chest like it was a life raft.

"When I arrived in Volterra I didn't speak a word of Italian, and all my classes were taught in English. Looking back I'm fairly certain Demetri didn't want me to understand his language.

"But I did - I learnt informally in my tourist wanderings and the other students at Volterra. And Stefan's casual conversation helped me with the dialect, so I could understand most of what the woman was screaming at my fiance.

"Screaming at him as she asked why he killed her son. Demetri spoke so fast and fierce, I missed much of the dialogue, but I knew he was warning her of 'the rules'. I got the impression that her family would be in danger if she did not desist and leave. I wanted to help - to help her and to help Stefan - but I had no idea what to do, what to say. How to help...

"And...I was scared for myself." Bella buried herself into her hair as she spoke this last admission, heavy with shame as she curled her legs into her body and hugged her knees.

She spoke on, her voice barely more than a whisper that I could barely catch above the purr of the car's engine. "A few minutes later Heidi, Demetri's cousin, showed up and whisked me away to the far side of the estate. I asked what was going on, feigning ignorance to the language and what had transpired. Heidi told me she was just a beggar wanting more bread this week. I just nodded, like the coward I am, and blinked inanely as we discussed fabric choices for the ball later in the year."

Bella's cheeks were thick with tears now and the napkin in her hands was been reduced to white powder. "I discussed fashion while he murdered another family. I hid and pretended to not notice, just glad that he hadn't taken his fury out on me.

"A week after that I was sat in Heidi's apartment, flicking through the TV channels while I waited for her to get ready. That was also the time that I figured out that Demetri put a filter on my television and internet, blocking me from most of the international news. But, again, that is a story for another day.

"The news broadcast spoke of five bodies found by sniffer dogs just outside of Florence. The Russo family. Mother, father, three children including the eldest son, a gardener named Stefan. I held my breath, thinking it must be some ridiculous coincidence, then they showed his picture and I knew.

"It was the last school photograph he'd had done. He still had his stupid hat on from the play, the most ridiculous feathered affair you'd ever seen. He took _The Taming of The Shrew_ so seriously, was so happy to be cast as Petruchio that he wore the fucking thing everywhere. It was one of the things they used to identify his body - apparently he had been buried with it.

"I turned the television off and was sick all over Heidi's pristine living room." She gave a disgusted snort. "She wasn't even angry - her and Felix thought I was pregnant and insisted on taking me straight back to Demetri. I played happy families with him, smiling even though I wanted to scream until my throat was raw."

She gave a dry, hacking cough. Instinctively I grabbed the water bottle next to me, twisting the cap off and handing it to Bella. She gulped half of it down, almost choking but not pausing for a breath. She fastened the cap onto the bottle and handed it back to me, muttering a low "_Thank you_" and melting back into her seat.

"A few days after I found out about Stefan and his family...that was when I first realised I was being followed. To classes, to the shops, to the library - hell, even to the fucking bathroom! If one of Aro's family wasn't with me at all times, then I found that there were always a couple of guys from the house that 'happened' to be on the same street."

"Perceptive," I said, interjecting into her story. "The Volturi guard are well trained. Most people don't realise they're being followed until it's too late."

Bella shrugged, twirling a curl of her hair around a finger. "Adrenaline and fear are wondrous things. They sharpen visual acuity and memory something fierce. Besides, I think they figured I was too stupid and oblivious to realise what was going on. They were sloppy."

Her tone was bitter and self-deprecating, and I'm pretty sure my abrupt laughter shocked her. Bella stared at me, not angry but a little hostile and a lot puzzled. "What's so funny?"

I reached over and pushed the perfumed curtain of hair aside, brushed the soft tender skin of her throat as I tilted her chin towards me. "I apologise. I don't think anything you just shared with me was funny, Bella. I'm not laughing at you. It's just...fuck, Aro's guard definitely underestimated you."

Her face was blank, a porcelain mask. Then she gave me a wry half grin and nodded. "Hell yeah, those fuckers definitely underestimated me."

I snorted and shook my head, pleased to see the mirroring black amusement on Bella's features. I saw the exit sign before us and turned off cleanly, scanning the roadside for our contact.

"This is where we're meeting them?" Bella asked curiously, noting my behaviour.

"Yeah," I said. "Just down the end of this road."

I turned the car and saw him. The car lit him and his supplies in stark relief, headlights blazing through him in the dead Nevada desert.

"Is that..." Bella asked, leaning forward with a wide-toothed smile.

I pulled the car to a stop and pinched the bridge of my nose, ignoring the stupid-ass grin on our contact's face.

"Yeah," I huffed, grinding my teeth. "That's Emmett."

**~ * ~**

**Please review - is this chapter too much dialogue/back ground? I don't want to bore you guys. Let me know whether you found it interesting or irritating - flames welcome (polite flames, anyway).**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N Stephenie Meyer owns all. I just own a massive sense of literary insecurity.**

**My reviewers are all brands of fantastic, give me the motivation to keep updating. All you lurkers out there...please at least give me a thumbs up or down. Always respond to reviews so would love to hear from you :)**

**CHAPTER TWELVE**

_**Previously (EPOV)**_

_I turned the car and saw him. The car lit him and his supplies in stark relief, headlights blazing through him in the dead Nevada desert._

_"Is that..." Bella asked, leaning forward with a wide-toothed smile._

_I pulled the car to a stop and pinched the bridge of my nose, ignoring the stupid-ass grin on our contact's face. _

_"Yeah," I huffed, grinding my teeth. "That's Emmett."_

**~ * ~**

**BPOV**

The hot Nevada sun set the horizon ablaze as it half-sunk below the far line of the desert, still managing to scorch my retinas despite the dark-tinted sunglasses I'd commandeered from Edward. My face split in half with a wide grin as I recognised the hulking figure leaning against the hood of a dark blue Corvette.

_Emmett!_

His features were still mostly concealed by the glare of the setting sun behind him, revealing just his broad muscled outline and crossed arms. But I could just make out that that infectious, Cheshire Cat-style grin that was so at odds with his WWF-style appearance.

For the first time in what felt like forever I couldn't push the responding smile off my own face. Emmett was the first agent I'd met from the Cullen Group after Jasper had plucked me from the tender 'care' of the Witness Protection Programme. In the confusing turmoil of events that had followed Emmett had been a welcome anchor to cling to; he'd felt like the big brother I'd never had.

Growing up I'd always wanted siblings, but between my mum Renee's flighty butterfly-esque behaviour and my dad Charlie's borderline-psychotic obsession with his job it was always just me at home. Truthfully, it had been a little lonely.

I glanced over at Edward, smiling, and was surprised to see a look of consternation on his annoying-attractive visage as he pinched the bridge of his nose. While I'd only known my enigmatic savior for a brief time I was already familiar with his number one signal of irritation. What the hell was his problem with Emmett?

I rolled my eyes and decided that I refused to care. This road trip with Mr. Bipolar Sullen Cullen was more than enough reason for me to crave the simplicity and joy of Emmett's company. God, I half-hoped that Emmett would be the one escorting me to the next safe-house now.

Yet as soon as that thought crossed my mind I felt an unexpected pang at the thought of leaving Edward behind. The idea of not seeing him, not arguing with him was...strange? Hmm. I'm not sure my emotional calculator was equipped to deal with that one at the moment; serious battery shortage in the making.

Whatever.

Push it aside. Deal with it later. Ideally when men with guns aren't chasing me.

I suppressed the unease as Edward pulled the Porsche to a standstill ten yards in front of Emmett and the Corvette, a bow-wave of gravel and dust brushing Emmett's feet. Grinning I flung the car door open almost before the car had even stopped and ran with rare grace across the dry sandy road.

"Bella Luna!" he bellowed, matching my grin and pulling me into a bone-crushing bear hug. Minor hazard with Emmett - I swear one of these days he was going to crack one of my ribs, but right now I couldn't give a shit if he fractured my whole goddamn sternum.

He spun me round in a circle, making my head spin a little. Oops, forgot about the concussion. I squeezed Emmett's forearms, desperately trying to tell him telepathically to cease and desist before I threw up - again - all over his shirt.

Luckily, Edward did this for me. With his usual tact and politeness, of course.

"What the fuck, Emmett?! She has a head injury and you think it's a good idea to spin her round like she's at a goddamn carnival? Put her the fuck down!"

Emmett stopped straight away and set me down carefully, like I was a china doll, supporting my shaky balance with his meaty bear-sized paws on my shoulder. "Sorry, Bells," he murmured to me, breaking out the dimples.

I half-smiled and shrugged up at him. The human contact felt good, but I was too embarrassed to put the need into words. "S'ok, Em. I'm fine, really."

He winked at me before turning his attention to Edward, who was fuming in the dying light like a bronze-headed pagan god, silhouetted by flames and fire. The sight was enough to make my stomach clench and the pain in my head disappear for a moment.

Then the moment was broken.

"Jeez, Eddie, what crawled up your hole and died?"

Edward folded his arms, scowling darkly, his brows deeply furrowed. All he said was, "Emmett," in an intense, warning tone.

Emmett rolled his eyes and raised his hands sarcastically. "Sorry, _Edward_. See the personality transplant didn't take, huh?"

I smothered a giggle into Emmett's shoulder and was rewarded with his answering grin as I curiously watched Edward's angry expression from the corner of my eye. What the hell was his problem now?

Em turned me to the side and tucked me below his gorilla arm, gesturing towards the Corvette. "The standard kit's in the back, Ed, plus a few toys that Jasper added back at HQ. Should get you through to Washington no problem, especially once I give Bella Luna here one of Alice's patented makeovers."

Edward frowned. "Bella Luna?"

"What can I say, she has good taste." I snickered a little at that. Emmett and I had initially bonded over our mutual adoration of Jason Mraz and every time I saw him he always slipped me one of our favourite singer's new CDs. "Come on, kitten."

I turned to follow him, taking another look at Edward as I wondered once again why he looked angry. But now he looked almost..._pained?_ His discomfort only seemed to intensify as Emmett tugged on my arm, beckoning me to follow him.

I sat in the back of the Corvette and watched the two men as they talked quietly behind the vehicle, their words indecipherable to me. Emmett pulled a small brown bag out of the trunk and smirked at Edward, shoving him roughly in the shoulder with easy familiarity before sliding into the backseat next to me.

"What's that?" I asked curiously. I was half-asking about the bag, half-asking about the exchange with Edward. He chose to only answer the former and, as usual, I didn't push. Of all people I understood and respected other peoples' secrets.

"Just a little care package Alice put together for us. She's a surgeon by day, fashion stylist to the spy-world by night," he quipped. I couldn't help but laugh lightly in response. "It's not much but it will change your appearance enough to get you through to Seattle. Just sit still, okay, Bells?"

I nodded and froze obediently. Emmett gathered my hair, his large hands surprisingly deft and gentle as he spun it into a flattened bun atop my head before securing it with an almost invisible net. He then pulled out a long blonde wig and fastened it expertly with a handful of bobby pins.

I eyed him with surprise. "Where the hell did you learn to do that?"

He grinned. "Two younger sisters growing up. And my wife trained me long ago in the art of hair management - just don't tell Jasper or Edward, or I'll lose my man card."

I giggled. "Your secret's safe with me."

He dug into the bag and brought out a handful of shining metal which I eyed curiously. My eyes widened with alarm when I realised what he held.

"Chill, Bella Luna. They're fake - I'm not going to pierce your face in the middle of the Nevada desert, okay." He leaned forward and slipped two of the surprisingly-realistic rings onto my lip and one to my eyebrow, the edges pinching uncomfortably. He then added another to the right side of my nose and a heavy one with a thick ball in the centre to my septum.

"You got a mirror?" I asked nervously. The metal was light but still felt strangely heavy and unfamiliar against my skin.

"Sure, kid." He pulled a small flip-mirror from the bag and handed it to me.

I looked at my reflection and was shocked at the difference it made. The metalwork drew attention from my features and I was amazed how authentic it looked. The difference was definitely worth a little discomfort. "Thanks," I breathed.

Emmett grinned at me and ruffled the long blonde stands of the wig. "No problem, Bella Luna. You see, this way when people see you they'll see the piercings first and you second. Should be enough to last as a short-term disguise."

Em opened the back door and climbed out, offering me a hand. Even though the sun had nearly set the heat was still brutal and I welcomed the assistance, smiling up at him. I tugged absently on one of the rings pinching my lip and turned to see where Edward was.

I gulped. He was on the other side of the car, looking for all the world as if he were posing for a portrait of a long, leonine predator. His hair was a wild tempestuous mess that stood in shocking contrast to the pale ivory of his skin and the piercing cat-like gleam of his emerald eyes. He was a study in danger and fierce frustration.

He barked out, "You done?" Even pissed, his rough was voice was still velvet gliding over rubble.

Emmett looked a little puzzled, but nodded, patting me on the shoulder. "Yeah, bro, we're all done. Car's ready to go, so...I'll see you in Seattle, yeah?"

Edward just nodded tersely and swung himself with uncanny grace into the driver's seat, revving the engine impatiently. Em arched a questioning brow at me, clearly surprised by Edward's behaviour. That was enough to tell me that he was acting out of character and I couldn't help but wonder how much of that was due to me...

But all I could do was just shrug in response, embracing Emmett for one last hug and smiling as he dropped a brotherly kiss on my cheek. "Take care, Bells," he murmured, helping me into the passenger's side. He closed the door for me and smiled down at me. "See you soon, right?"

I nodded, smiling, and he tapped the hood of the car in a move that I'd only ever seen in the movies. I couldn't help the little laugh that escaped me as I shook my head at him, waving 'bye' sarcastically and fastening my seatbelt.

The abrupt roar of the engine made me jump, a reverberating and sudden grunt that equalled Edward in its unpredictability. I had a scarce moment to wave a final goodbye to Emmett before Edward tore the Corvette back onto the road, leaving Emmett as a distant figure standing shocked beside the yellow stolen Porsche.

_What the hell was going on?_ I was struck by the feeling that I was missing something, but lacked enough information to even articulate the question.

The road tore past, the sun slinking lower on the horizon until the only light was that blazing from the headlights before us. Silence reigned supreme in the car, growing more and more uncomfortable with each passing mile.

Edward was gripping the steering wheel so tightly that I was eyeing him with growing trepidation. I was becoming genuinely worried that he was going to snap it into pieces and have to execute a dramatic James Bond-style move and steer the car with a handful of wires under the dashboard or some shit.

"Um, Edward?" I asked hesitantly. _Don't provoke the crazy person_. "Is everything okay?"

"Fine," he spat. I almost flinched from the acid whiplash.

"Okaaaaay," I said slowly, feeling vaguely like I was talking down a twitching schizophrenic from the roof of a building. "Well, not to be rude or provoke you any further but that answer is clearly bullshit. So, I was thinking maybe you'd like to try again and perhaps give me the real answer this time."

He glared over at me briefly, his fierce jade green eyes meeting mine for a split second before returning to the winding road before us.

Silence, thick and heavy, then -

"You do know he's married don't you?" Edward snapped eventually.

_What the fuck?_

"What? Are you talking about Emmett?"

"Who else?" he snarked.

I gripped my fists, eyes narrowed. "Then, yeah, of course I know he's married, Edward. Jesus H. Christ - I'm the one with the head injury, shouldn't I have the market cornered on amnesia right now? You must remember the big tantrum you threw over the fact that Emmett _told_ me he was married only a few hours ago."

He grimaced a little at that and I had to bite down hard on my lip to stop my laughter. He looked like a kid caught in a shitty lie by his mother, furiously back-peddaling as he searched for another story to explain it all. It shouldn't have been funny in the circumstances...but it really was.

"Yes, well, you...fuck, Bella! If you are so aware that he's married - a fact which you seem to take great delight in _repeatedly_ pointing out to me - then why the hell were you all over him?"

I gaped at him, speechless. As the miles and hours passed by I was becoming more and more concerned that Jasper had accidentally passed my case file onto the resident community service project who would be more appropriately situated in the local mental asylum.

My tone was deceptively even. "Are you accusing me of flirting with Emmett?"

He scoffed. "I hardly need to accuse, Isabella. You were all over him."

"I was not!" I seethed. "Emmett is a friend, a _friend_, Edward. Clearly the concept is foreign to you but I'm sure you have access to a dictionary - or at the very least a therapist."

He didn't reply, so I continued.

"When Jasper took me away from the Feds I really needed someone, someone to help me feel safe and _he_ was it. Emmett talked to me, listened to me. He wasn't a giant fucking asshole all the time who constantly accused me of being some sort of gold-digging crime-family wannabe."

_Like some people I could mention..._

Edward growled - _fucking growled_ - and slammed his foot on the brake so hard that I was jerked forward, my seatbelt ripping into my torso. The dull pain in my head exploded into a full blown brass band as the resulting force buried me back into the headrest behind me.

_Fucking asshole!_

"If he's such a 'friend' then why the hell couldn't you keep your hands off him the whole time we were doing the switch-over, hmm?"

That was it. I snapped. Before he could react I unbuckled my seatbelt and flung the car door open, whirled and yelled, "SCREW YOU!" before stalking away from him and the confused mess he made of my head.

_FuckingprickassholestupidmessyhaireddickforbrainsASSTARD!_

Christ. I wanted to rip his stupid sexy bronze hair out, to tug on his shirt and scream my fury at him. I was too tired to deal with this, the simultaneous draw that made me want to taste the salt of his skin while at the same time wanting to berate him for his unpredictable and abrasive behaviour.

_Argh!_

It was just too much. What was happening in my sorry excuse for a life, what he made me feel, the threat that constantly surrounded me. It made me want to fall to the ground and scream and cry like a spoilt toddler denied their sugar fix at the check-out line.

I heard the snap and slam of his door as he nearly tore it off the car in his anger, stalking after me with fierce jade eyes and a menacing growl. "Isabella, get back in the fucking car. _Now!_"

"No!" I was done. I would _walk_ all the way to Seattle before I got back in a car with him.

His footsteps sped up as he caught up with me, his hand grabbing my shoulder. "I don't have time for your prima donna theatrics. I'm sure you're used to throwing a tantrum and getting your own way, but I'm not playing your game today, _princess_."

I whirled around to him, spitting out my words with childish impetuosity, annoyed that I was half-proving him right with my loss of temper. "Fine, Edward, just fucking believe whatever you like and see if I care that -"

The sky exploded in a rainbow of white-hot heat and searing orange flame, booming and eerily soundless. I was dimly aware of being flung forward as if by an invisible giant hand, swatted onto the pavement with a sick thud and my head spinning in flashing grey-black circles with the dizzying impact.

_What the hell...?_

Roughness against my cheek, my chest.

Asphalt? Gravel?

Was that smoke?

Heat on my face, blazing against my cheek.

I coughed, my chest strangely aching and sore as hollow silver stars slid across my vision like barely glimpsed mosquitoes swarming over me.

The sensation was eerily familiar, and I was terrified to lift my face from the ground and turn around. Terrified to remember.

**~ * ~**

_"Blackjack? Again?" I scoffed at Agent Peterson. "Whatever happened to Snap? Or Rummy?"_

_He chuckled at that, the cards blurring between his hands with the skill of a Vegas croupier. "Snap?" he scoffed. The other agent at the table laughed good-naturedly; the remaining two of my guard were outside, prepping the car for travel. "I wouldn't disgrace this pack of cards with such a juvenile game. My dear old father promised me this pack once belonged to Sammy Davis Jr. Besides, we're not playing for cash, little Swan - we're playing for toothpicks. Even you can afford those," he teased._

_I rolled my eyes, pushing a stack of my borrowed toothpicks towards Peterson and motioned for him to deal me in. "Fine! You asked for it, so prepare to be creamed." I grinned and beckoned sarcastically, imitating the cheesy Kung Fu movies I used to watch with Charlie when I was a kid. "Hit me."_

_Peterson smirked and flipped a card face down to me across the table. I glanced at it, curling the corner discretely: six of clubs._

_"Hit."_

_He dealt another: jack of hearts._

_I leaned back, ignoring their amused looks, and drawled, with mock confidence, "Hit me again." God, it felt like years since I'd just had a night of harmless entertainment._

_"Playing dangerously, eh, little Swan," Peterson teased, tossing another card to me. He could read me like a book._

_I turned the corner, over-exaggerating my secrecy, and then groaned when I saw the emblem for the nine of spades. "Damn it," I murmured, glaring at Peterson. "I'm bust. Happy now?"_

_He grinned and his lips parted, but he never answered. The irony of my casual phrasing wasn't lost on me later. _

_**~ * ~**_

Happy now?

No. Never.

In truth, I never heard the explosion of the car bomb outside the FBI safe-house in Idaho.

I felt it though. As I lay face down on the scorching Nevada roadway with the argument with Edward buzzing through my head, the sensation was eerily familiar. The same feel, the same sounds. The same smell.

Back then with Peterson while playing Blackjack it had been a deep thudding bass shudder that jarred through my bones, knocking me off my chair at the card table as my chin collided with the floor. Everything felt as if it were in slow motion, such a bizarre sensation in retrospect.

It had taken me nearly ten minutes to come to the realisation that no one was being quiet. It wasn't until I was in the car with Peterson and the only other surviving agent - halfway down the freeway - that I realised that my ear drums were rendered deaf by the blast.

It was two days before I could hear again.

I'd welcomed the silence.

Peterson had dragged me by my waist from the room, his mouth moving soundlessly as he gesticulated widely and drew his weapon with his free hand. The slight spark from the barrel and the recoil against my body was the only indication for me that he was firing. I never even saw his targets.

As Peterson had tugged me out of the safe-house to the car and screamed without noise in my ear I was mute, my vision and voice overcome with the memory of the elegant fall and tumble of playing cards as they twirled onto the carpet.

_Bust. The house wins._

The house always wins.

**~ * ~**

**A/N Cliffhanger much? Yeah, well, give me feedback and I'll update faster :) Any questions - put them in a review and I'll answer!**

**Guys and girls (mainly girls - guys are after all an endangered species on fanfiction) REVIEW! **

**Reading a story and not reviewing makes authors cry (cue the guilt trip...)**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N Stephenie Meyer owns all.**

**So sorry for the delay - just moved halfway across the country and have been distracted by reading too many other fics in the meantime. Read on and review, my pretties!**

**This hasn't been beta'd - so PLEASE point out any spelling/grammatical errors to me, much appreciated :D**

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN**

_**Previously (BPOV)**_

_"Fine, Edward, just fucking believe whatever you like and see if I care that -"_

_The sky exploded in a rainbow of white-hot heat and searing orange flame, booming and eerily soundless. I was dimly aware of being flung forward as if by an invisible giant hand, swatted onto the pavement with a sick thud and my head spinning in flashing grey-black circles with the dizzying impact._

What the hell...?

_Roughness against my cheek, my chest. _

_Asphalt? Gravel?_

_Was that smoke? _

_Heat on my face, blazing against my cheek._

_I coughed, my chest strangely aching and sore as hollow silver stars slid across my vision like barely glimpsed mosquitoes swarming over me._

**~ * ~**

**BPOV**

The heat was unforgiving and unrelenting, pressing me down into the road. The tarmac was overheated by the Nevada sun and the air above me was hot with smoke and burning fuel, leaving me disoriented and unsure which way was up or down.

I coughed, chokingly, tears blurring my eyesight as I struggled to plant my palms flat and push myself up. My progress was slow and tortuous, my brain feeling like it was rolling around sickeningly in my skull like a demonic bowling ball, but I eventually managed to push myself onto all-fours to check my surroundings as my mind tried to catch up with my body and figure out what the fuck just happened.

I looked back behind me and saw the car Emmett had given us now engulfed in flames and smoke, spiralling up into the sky like a beacon. Even through the panic my chest went tight as I thought about who might be see that, who might be watching for. Edward was going to -

_Edward!_

I clenched in horror and looked around frantically, heart pounding like a jackrabbit. I saw a prone figure sprawled on the ground to my left, about ten feet away from me. Ignoring the coughs wracking my chest and the burning in my palms I crawled over to him, my heart tight as I registered the untidy mop of bronze hair and his too-still limbs as he lay there, face down and unmoving.

_Fuck! God, Edward, _please_ be okay. Please don't leave me here alone!_

I put a shaking hand on his shoulder, trying unsuccessfully to turn his body over; he was too goddamn heavy! Tears streamed down my cheeks and I realised I was chanting his name like a mantra, brushing his hair back and desperately trying to coax some sign of life from him. I put a trembling finger to the juncture of his neck and nearly collapsed in relief when I felt his pulse, strong and regular.

I was just about to try and turn him again when I heard heavy footsteps and deep, male voices coming nearer, muffled by the ringing in my ears from the explosion. I froze. A quick glance about told me there was no shelter to run to, nowhere to hide. We were surrounded by miles and miles of flat desert. Regardless, there was no way I would leave Edward here, alone and vulnerable.

The voices were getting closer.

Almost shaking with the need to hurry I pushed Edward's shoulder up until I could tug his jacket aside and yank out the gun I knew he kept in the holster there. I held it gingerly in my hands, cursing myself for rolling my eyes at Charlie all those times he'd offered to take me to the range and teach me how to use a firearm. I examined it with trepidation.

_Was that the safety? Do all guns even have a safety? Why does all my knowledge on guns come from freaking _Die Hard_ movies??_

Out of time.

I lay back down on my front on the hot asphalt, tucking the gun beneath my body to hide it from whoever was coming to find us. I fervently hoped that it was Emmett, but we'd driven too far for him to have arrived here this quickly...unless I'd been out longer than I'd thought. For the first time in my life I actually wished my concussion had led to unconsciousness.

As the men got nearer through the thick smoke I closed my eyes and played dead, heart pounding in my ears. Fuck, the second either of them checked for a pulse I was sure I would be discovered - there was no way they'd believe I was out. That's even if they checked for a pulse...

A car bomb like that wasn't meant to leave any survivors. The possibility that they'd simply walk up and plant a bullet in both our heads made my blood turn to tar but it was too late to do anything now and -

"What the fuck?!" The voice was male and deep, harsh in its anger and with the edge of an Italian accent. I had to strain to hear through the ringing in my ears and I didn't recognise the speaker, but the tone told me this was no friend. "It was supposed to be a _smoke bomb_, enough to make them pull over. What the hell did you do, put it on the gas line? _Scopata!_"

The other man answered, also unfamiliar to me. He sounded calmer than the other speaker, a little exasperated but almost bored. "I was following orders."

"Orders? From who? Demetri was pretty fucking clear that his _puttana_ was to be taken alive. If she'd been in the car she'd be mincemeat on the highway."

The other guy didn't answer but by their footsteps they were close to me now. I felt a boot nudge my side and held my breath as I played dead, rolling back limply when the shoe was removed. "Is this even her? In the picture Demetri gave me she had brown hair."

I felt a hand tug on the wig I was wearing, then pull it sharply. Pain exploded in my scalp as the pins came loose and he yanked the fake blonde weave away from my hair, then rip out the hairnet and shake my brown curls free. I bit my lip to avoid crying out, thankful they couldn't see my face.

"It's her. Just a wig."

"Huh. Is she even alive?"

"Check her," the second voice commanded. "The guard too."

A hand fisted my hair and tugged my head back, pain rocketing through me. I didn't move. I felt greasy, sweaty fingers on my neck and fought to slow my breathing and heartbeat, desperate not to alert them that I was awake.

The hand released me and my head thudded back onto the road. _Ow!_ The first man grunted and stepped over me to Edward; from the dull thud moments later I guessed he'd performed the same exam.

"They're both alive. Lucky for you, fucker. Who the hell told you to blow up the bitch's car?"

"Who do you think." The tone was irritated and it was clear it wasn't a question.

"Was it Cauis?" The other man grunted in affirmation, and the first man swore profusely in Italian. "I'm not getting involved in a pissing contest between the brothers. Aro and Demetri told me to bring this bitch in alive, so we're bringing her in alive, _capisce_?"

"Whatever," the second man said, coolly. "Just get her in the van and let the brothers fight over whether or not to skin her alive."

Goosebumps erupted over my skin and my breathing hitched. I stayed as still as possible, fighting the urge to hyperventilate as I prayed they didn't notice the difference.

"What about the guard? Looks like Cullen's son. Should we take him too?"

There was a long pause, then the first man spoke. "Nah. You know the Cullens - he'll be too much fucking trouble to transport. Just shoot him."

_No no no no no no no no!!_

My fingers beneath me fumbled on the gun, thumbing what I hoped was the safety as I slipped my finger into the trigger. I hoped they were close enough that I wouldn't have to aim, but if I shot one would I need to reload or something before I shot the other?

And wasn't there something about a recoil?

_Shit shit shit!_

I breathed in deeply and tensed to flip over and shoot whoever was nearest to me, but my fingers went limp and my breath escaped me as I heard a distinctive _click_ then the loud explosive sound of a bullet being fired right by me.

My heart stopped and my eyes flew open.

_No_....

**~ * ~**

**Emmett POV**

My jaw dropped slightly as I watched the disappearing bumper of the Corvette as Edward burned rubber and tore away in an over-dramatic roar of gas.

_What the fuck...?_

I shook my head, half-laughing as I swung myself into the driver's seat of the Porsche Edward had stolen back in Phoenix. Flashy bastard. He had been acting like an ass from the moment I'd arrived and if I wasn't convinced he'd had his dick removed years ago I would have really immediately he was jealous over Bella Luna.

The quick getaway was the icing on the sexually-frustrated green-eyed cake. That fucker was seriously jealous - Bells was clearly tying him into knots and she was totally oblivious. Hilarious!

The soft buzz of my phone in my pocket broke my thoughts and I glanced at the display, then swung it up to my ear with a grin. "Rosie baby," I purred.

"What's your location?"

Ah, that's my girl. All business, all the time. Seriously a goddamn turn-on. "Where do you want me to be, baby?" I teased, leaning back and crossing my arms.

"Quit pissing around, asshole," she snapped, but I could hear the undertone of amusement in her voice over the sound of her engine.

I chuckled to myself. "Usual rendezvous, Edward and the client just left in the Corvette. You close by?"

"Be there in five." She hung up without a goodbye, making me grin.

I fired the Porsche up and drove it back onto the highway, wiping it down for prints before abandoning it with the keys in the ignition. It wouldn't be there long. I jogged back and less than two minutes later I heard another car approaching. Rosalie.

She pulled up in her BMW, stopping the tires in a spin less than four inches away from my toes. I climbed in the car and pulled her in for a hungry kiss. One day she was going to pull that shit and park on my feet, but it was still seriously fucking hot.

"How was the flight?"

She shrugged, putting the car into drive and heading back to the highway. "Fine. Some pig in a suit offered me fifty bucks to join the mile high club with him."

"Is he still breathing?"

She smirked at me, pure lightning and steel and sex. "Sure, if you count breathing through a tube."

I laughed and gripped her knee as we drove. "You missed one hell of an entertaining afternoon."

She rolled her beautiful baby blues at me. "What, did the Swan girl fall over her own feet again?"

"No, well, yeah, but that's not what I meant." She arched a brow, making an impatient '_come on_' signal with her fingers. "It was Edward, he went all caveman on me. Seriously thought he'd punch me out when I gave Bella a hug." I smirked. "He was acting worse than that time I borrowed his favourite assault rifle without asking and 'accidentally' left it in El Salvador."

Rose downshifted expertly and cast me a curious look. "He was jealous?" she asked, incredulous. "Over Swan - a _client_?"

I laughed, nodding. "Hell yeah. He tore out of here so fast he's gonna need a new set of wheels before he even hits the state line."

Rosalie laughed then too, wicked and malicious. "Christ, Mr. Professionalism has a hard-on for a client. Can't wait for Carlisle to get a hold of this one. Is she even legal?"

"Yeah, she's eighteen - no wait, nineteen. But I'm not sure that's even going to be an issue; Bella looked about ready to put his eyes out with hot pokers when they left. I get the distinct impression he's dealing with his little crush by being a complete prick to her."

"Sounds like the Edward we've all come to know and tolerate."

"Yeah, you should have seen his face when I took her in the back seat, honestly thought he was going to pop a -"

"_What the fuck!"_ Rose screamed, slamming the brakes so hard that her blonde hair flew out before her like a wave of gold and we both hit our seat belts hard enough to knock the air from our lungs.

Shocked, we both just sat there and stared at the billowing cloud of smoke miles ahead of us, red and orange flickering at its base. Our eyes met in an instance and we both said, "Edward."

Less than twenty seconds after stopping Rosalie had already put the M3 back into drive and was tearing down the highway, heading towards the nightmare waiting for us.

"What car were they driving?" Rosalie's voice was so quiet she was almost whispering. We were nearly there.

My mouth was dry. "The Corvette. I drove it down from HQ, didn't let it out of my goddamn sight the whole time."

She glanced at me again, lips tight and brow furrowed. "Shit."

Yeah, that pretty much summed it up. "Could have been an RPG*."

She shrugged, clearly unconvinced. "Maybe. Out here though, no cover? Unlikely."

At least if it was an RPG then it wasn't an inside job; it wasn't a bomb planted on the car right in the centre of where the Cullen Group was supposedly safe.

"Jasper was right," she said softly. "We've got a mole. And if they have that kind of access - we're all in serious fucking trouble."

We rounded the bend and saw the frame of the Corvette, enveloped in smoke and still burping rolls of orange flame. The smoke was too thick to see anything clearly close-by but we both noticed the hulking shape of a dark van parked fifty yards down the road on the hard shoulder.

I was out of the car before the wheels had stopped moving, running towards the wreck and pulling my Glock out. Soft footfalls behind me and a matching _click_ told me Rosalie was similarly ready.

Breathing shallowly through my nose to combat the heavy smoke I narrowed my eyes and ignored the burn. I saw them then, Edward and Bella lying prone and unconscious on the ground as two dark-haired motherfuckers stood over then, seemingly arguing.

I lifted my Glock and took aim as one of the men pointed the gun at Edward's head. Red descended over my vision.

_Hell no!_

Without even blinking I shot off a round into his skull, watching with dark satisfaction as he twitched and folded into a heap on the highway.

His companion jerked his head to him in shock but didn't even have a chance to raise him gun before the sharp rounds of Rosalie's Beretta took him down. We exchanged a loaded look, then I jogged towards the two figures lying on the ground as Rose took point to make sure we wouldn't have any unexpected company soon. I could hear her on the phone, presumably relaying the events to Carlisle or Jasper.

The goon Rosalie had shot was half-lying across Bella, blood from his severed carotid artery oozing over her prone form. Looping my fist through the back of his t-shirt I tossed him aside with a grunt, grabbing her shoulders and flipping her over, fucking praying she was alive.

"Bella?! _Bella!_"

I turned her onto her back and pushed tangled brown curls aside to find wide staring chocolate brown eyes, rolling and showing way too much white. She was gasping for breath, choking as she panicked and dropped a heavy handgun with a loud clatter before grabbing my forearms and whispering my name in a frantic whisper. Her nails dug into my skin but I didn't even feel it as I pulled her up into a bear hug.

"Shh, Bells, it's okay, you're okay now," I muttered, patting her hair awkwardly and muttering all those meaningless platitudes you give to shaking survivors in these situations. I swallowed harshly as I glanced at the smoking wreck of the Corvette and shuddered as I thought what could have happened if they'd both still been in the car.

I tried to ease her off me to check on Edward, but she clung to me like she was drowning. I glanced around and was relieved to see Rose heading back for us, re-holstering her Beretta and kneeling down beside Edward, flipping him over onto his back effortlessly although perhaps a little roughly.

"Easy, Rose," I chided, reproachfully.

She rolled her eyes, checking his pulse with brutal efficiency. "Man up, Em. He's a big boy, he can handle it."

Our conversation stirred the shivering brunette and she blinked blearily over at us. "Edward, he's....he's...."

"He's alive," Rose said tersely.

Bella blinked as us like we were speaking Russian. "What? He's alive? But...they shot him." She gulped loudly, tugging her hair. "I _heard_ them..."

"No, Bells," I said, patting her head a little, hoping it was somehow comforting. I could see Rose arch a brow sardonically at my efforts. "He's okay, the gunshot you heard was me shooting that prick. Eddie's fine, just a little banged up that's all."

She just blinked at me, uncomprehending. Rose sighed in exasperation and yanked her out of my arms with a low mutter. "Grab Edward," she commanded me, tossing Bella's slight form over her shoulder.

I nodded in acknowledgement and seized Edward's arm, grunting as I heaved his bulky too-tall body over my shoulder. _Fucking heavy bastard_... I slung him over my shoulders in a fireman's lift and strode after Rose towards the BMW, thankful for not the first time that she'd brought a car with a backseat.

I dropped him into the backseat, laying him on his side and placing his head onto Bella's lap. "Keep him like this," I told her. She nodded, still a little too wide-eyed. "If he's sick tilt him forward so he doesn't choke. And keep patting his cheeks, try and wake his ass up, 'kay?'

She nodded, agreeing so softly I barely heard her. I gave her a lopsided smile and tugged her curls, saying, "You did good, kid. We're gonna get you to Seattle now, just hang onto Edward."

I jumped into the passenger seat, meeting Rose's steel-blue gaze. "Seattle?" she asked, her tone resigned. She knew it was a shitty option, but we had no choice left.

I sighed, nodding. "Seattle."

She pulled the shift into drive, pressed the gas pedal down and roared down the highway. She swerved in a wide arc past the smoking wreck of the Corvette as we headed towards the north and - hopefully - safety.

**~ * ~**

**A/N My dear LURKERS, please review - reading without returning the love is like taking free samples and laughing as vendors lose their business to overheads of rental prices...**

***By the way an RPG is a rocket propelled grenade - basically it would mean that someone shot the car into an explosion with a giant gun, meaning it wasn't an inside job.**


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